About the work

The red balloon catches a light that hasn't touched anything else yet. It suggests a moment just before, or just after, everything else catches up. These oversized pens, found or liberated, were never designed for jousting, nor for the early morning, nor for this particular stretch of asphalt. And yet they are here, now, in this combination. There is a fleeting agreement between objects and people, a transient contract of meaning and purpose that snaps into place, then just as quickly dissolves. The balloon, tethered or just lingering, seems to understand this better than the two figures, who are entirely absorbed in their improvised play. It is a small, bright testament to the temporary nature of delight, and how quickly the arbitrary can become utterly necessary.