Rindon Johnson
Manastabal, my guide, walks ahead of me with her hands in the pockets of her jeans, the space is flat, flat enough to reveal the circularity of the planet on the horizon, the sand passes in fine hard blades over the beaten surfaces, what comes through comes as protocol and is indifferent all that is serious melts into cute, the eagle falls to the ground with a clanking noise, Manastabal, my guide, normally static in appearance has relaxed limbs and lively muscles, I have difficulty in attracting her attention, quite suddenly she says you will have to find the words to describe this place lest everything you see suddenly disappears, the egg you already are keeps becoming an egg again., 2026
Brick
Dimensions variable
Edition of 3
Copyright The Artist
Photo: Dirk Tacke