Wish You Were Here
Nicole Couch (Pink, Fuchsia, Orange), 2010
Where are you? Have you left Bordeaux yet?
I’m still cooped up at 45 Mercy Street. I can’t believe my mother’s making me help her with her dissertation. And before you ask, no, I can’t build my studio in the barn because my parents offered to let the college house its summer resident up there. Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. Seriously. Every time I cross the yard to the road, I see the fellow hammering on his forks to make some sort of wind chime. The sophomores and their pseudo-native homages. Lame.
Save me, Rin, I’m dyeing. My hair; my couch. I’ve changed it three times since you’ve been gone, once more, my mom says, and it’ll fall out. My hair that is. I had to change it to a more mellow tangerine as the My Little Pony red mane announced my presence in town like a beacon for post-grads to spot me and shove their portfolios in my hand to give to my parents. God, I just want to get some bubble tea at Ampersand and talk to Adam. Before you ask, yes, John says, “Hi.” He tells me for every time I tell you “Hi” I get a free scoop of melon sorbet. I keep telling him I prefer dulce de leche, but whatever, it inspired my next hair color.
Not that this matters to you, woman-of-the-world. I feel like Zelda when Scott left her behind in Alabama while he became the toast of New York, minus the schizophrenia, but including the sneaked gin. And the nude swimming. Next summer we’ll have our licenses, and we can head straight down to Birmingham. Please, can we? We’ll wind a vintage Rolls Royce through all that dangling Spanish moss and kiss men on fire escapes because we like the shapes of their noses. Until then, it’s me, alone, dodging the creepy fellow in the barn, passing the same old poplar trees into town.
Dye-ing of boredom,
Liz Craft is a Los Angeles-based sculptor who has exhibited all over the world, most recently at the Venice Beach Biennale. More of her works can be viewed at http://www.artslant.com/global/artists/show/2724-liz-craft