About the work

This bench, I think, used to be painted bright green. Not the dull institutional green it must be now, but something with a little more life, something the children would have chosen themselves. The one in the middle, still laughing, has a smudge of dirt near her left ear. It’s the kind of dirt that comes from rolling on the ground, not from a fall, and it probably means a game was just interrupted. She’s too happy to notice it, or perhaps too busy processing whatever has just been said. Their smiles are all slightly out of sync, a chorus of joy fading into separate thoughts. What holds that last laugh in her throat, even for a moment, I can’t quite tell.