Part 44/85: Plaster and Solitude

I sit in my apartment and coat things in plaster. Bubble wrap hot-glued to particle board, mangled twisty-ties, piles or cardboard, loosely knitted yarn over partially inflated balloons. All I'm doing is making a big mess. I fill my room with these sculptures and once I'm out of space, I throw them all away. I look up pictures of Louise Bourgeois’ New York City home and imagine that I live there. That a woman can make such a place for herself, it gives me hope. Aaron Neville sing-narrates my imaginary life. Also, I am good friends with David Sedaris and Hugh and they invite me over for dinner parties and I am much more exciting and engaging than I actually am.