artist: Kyle FITZPATRICK
When I was a kid, my grandma had a “weather stone”: a magic “forecaster” rock tied on string and hanging between two posts.
She explained to me how it worked: when the rock was wet on top; that meant it had rained. When snow capped it; it snowed. When it was swinging in the wind; it was windy, etc.
At 5 years old, the humor escaped me.
I simply believed the stone was magic. An amulet.
When I manipulated it, I could make rain and wind, and by untying one end and throwing this rock
as high as I could, its orbit created firmaments and constellations in my mind.
When I played with this innate, ambivalent stone, it became inseparable from me.
It was likely my first struggle against matter.