Distance, 1993

The car stopped beside a monument and everyone got out. The kid spotted the big green hillside sweeping away and he let out a short cry of joy and amazement and he started running right down it, right away. He could hear the grownups’ voices, amused and laughing behind him.

“Hey,” one said. “Somebody’s making a fast break.”

“Looks like a runaway,” observed another.

“Come back, come back,” another advised without conviction. “You’ll be lost.”

But he couldn’t have turned back if he’d wanted to, he couldn’t have stopped running, because something drew him into it faster and faster, was it gravity? He’d never seen anything so large, so boundless, so wide open, never dreamed there was so much endless space. How could he help but race right into it? How could anyone resist? And the farther he ran, the more it seemed to expand, the greater it all became. He ran and ran toward the far-off line of the woods as the line of the woods began subtly to shift and recede. It was the ground beneath his feet that seemed to be moving, not he, he only ran to meet the earth as it already moved. And there was nothing but nothing all around, vast and accommodating, nothingness that you could run into, nothingness that took you in: immense nothingness and a little bit of air, that’s all it was. He’d never seen so much of it before. Did he see it or did he simply feel it? He wasn’t seeing it with his eyes. How could he see it this way? He’d never known it existed, this nothingness. Until now, he’d never known it was there. Right there. Always. And now he was knowing. His legs and muscles were knowing. Now he knew. He’d never heard about this in school, but his teachers were probably clueless …

Then the arm of a highway appeared, yawning a beam of blueness on the nothing of the green, and he was ready to bet it went on and on and on forever. Forever.

Somewhere behind him, the grownups were busy admiring the monument. Who knew what that was all about? Some poor bastard was probably buried under it or something.

Time, 1972

“There was this girl who used to wander around the campus, really spaced-out. Nobody seemed to know who she was; I’m not sure anybody knew who she was. Sometimes she’d show up at parties, wearing dark glasses, and just hang off by herself, wouldn’t talk to anyone. She’d just lean against the wall or flop out in a chair, staring up at the ceiling like she was in some kind of goddamn trance. One night she showed up at this big frat party. I watched her for a long time. She was leaning against a doorframe, sort of snapping the fingers of her left hand and talking to herself. People were moving around her like she wasn’t there, like she was invisible. After a while, I picked my way through the room. It was really crowded and, hell, I thought, maybe she actually is invisible. I walked up to her and tried to introduce myself, but she just kept snapping her fingers and talking. She seemed to be chanting something low under her breath, you know, and the room was loud as all get-out, so I leaned down with my ear right next to her face to try to figure out what she was saying …”

“Yeah. So. What was she saying?”

“All she was saying, over and over, was ‘Trip trip trip, time time time, trip trip trip, time time time, trip trip trip, time time time, trip trip trip, time time time …’”

“That was it?”

“That was it. That was all she said. She was chanting it to herself like that, like she was hypnotized. I asked her if she was okay, if I could get her a drink or something. And suddenly, she took off the sunglasses and looked straight at me. She had these just stunning, dark eyes, it really startled me.”

“Yeah? What’d she say?”

“She said, ‘Trip trip trip, time time time.’”

Two ghosts, 1991

My brain, 2003

Oh, man … this looks awful … just awful

…Huh? What?

I don’t know what happened to it … this is terrible …

What are you talking about?

How did it ever get like this?

Oh, my god! Is that your brain?

Yeah … I guess so

What’s it doing in your lap?

I don’t know ...

…You idiot! You took your brain out! You can’t just take your brain out and fiddle with it like that!

I guess …

Are you out of your mind?

Oh, I guess so … I dunno …

Oh, honestly. Here, sit still.

What are you doing?

Sit still. I’m going to see if I can get it back in. Hold still now. Just a minute. Honestly. There. Now … where’s the rest of your head?

The what?

The top of your head! What did you do with the top of your head?

I don’t know.

Oh, honestly! Here it is. Under the chair. Now be still while I try to put this back on.

I don’t feel so good.

Well, I guess not. Now just hold still. Now. Then. There. How does that feel?

Better. That’s better, I guess. I’m kind of seeing double, though. I think I need a beer.

What on earth possessed you to do such a thing?

I don’t know. I think it was the neighbors. The couple next door. They started screwing, and jesus they were loud. You know how loud they can get. And these walls are like cardboard, hell, they might as well have been right here in the room with me. Suddenly I just didn’t know what to do with myself. He was moaning and she was crying out and the headboard was slamming against the wall … and then a railroad locomotive started blowing its whistle somewhere far off in the distance, somewhere down in the freight yards, just one long, faint, faraway wail in the darkness … I don’t know, it just left me lonely. Restless and lonely. Lost, I guess.

So you heard all this and started playing with your brain?

Oh, don’t give me that! Don’t even start! Of course I play with my brain. Hell, everybody plays with their brain. You play with your brain, too, if you’d just admit it.

Oh, honestly …

Fungal infection, 2002

Black moor, 1974

There was an old man of our town
And he was wondrous wise.
He jumped into a bramble bush
And scratched out both his eyes.

And when he saw his eyes were out,
With all his might and main,
He jumped into another bush
And scratched them in again.

-Mother Goose

Cimarron River, 2002

State of the union, 1976, 2004

Welcome to the United States of America ...

Train man, 1990

Hey, Harry, how's it goin', man?

Oh, OK. Pretty good.

Wash them bones up and we'll play.

I'm gonna let you take score now.

Hell, you better. I'll probably have to pencil-whip yo' ass, anyway. Is that the Notre Dame game?

Well, I guess. They already had it on when I came in here.

Damn, it's in the fourth quarter already?

Well, I reckon so.

So ... they treating you all right in here?

Oh, you know. That little doctor comes around every day, always asking me if I know what time it is, what day it is. They always want to know if I know the month and the year. They want to know if I know where I am. All that kind of stuff.

Well ... any of that really make any difference?

It ... nah ... hell, it don't really matter ...

Ghost, 2001

It was right over there near the window -- attracted, I think, by the atmosphere of soft light. Me, I went out to the kitchen for a beer. I came back for another look, but a faint smudge of electrons was all that remained.

Sentinel, 2003

In the countryside near Uvalde, Texas, the awesome Monument of the Wind bears silent witness to our transient world.