Eastern Summer
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.