About the work

That parrot, the plastic one, used to sit on a dashboard. It rode across a country, west to east, tucked between a dashboard clock that never worked and a stack of cassette tapes the driver kept meaning to organize. It was a gift from a highway rest stop, a silly thing. Now it’s here, on a sill, near a ceramic egg cup and a bottle cap, in the last light of a day that feels longer than it should. The parrot hasn't moved in years, but sometimes, when the light hits it just right, you could almost believe it’s still moving.