Digital photography/ Inkjet print
2m x 3m




Setting: A girl. A road. A jungle, very green. Some stones, big ones. Daytime.

She is blocking the road.

She is putting the finishing touch in place.

She is unblocking the road.

She is fighting a good fight.

She is finishing her monument.

She is taking a little stretch.

She is ready to pounce.

She is showing just a little leg.

She is letting her hair blow down.

She is marking this as her all-time favorite dirt road.

She is completely unaffected by the road, it is not in the least special .

She is putting her hands where we can see them.

She is refusing to show her face.

She is acknowledging her weakness.

She is assured in her strength.

She is making the stone stoney.

She is stone free, to do as she please.

She is pushing, hard.

She is pulling, softly.

She is dreaming of the open road.

She is realizing that it might just be easier to walk around.

She is trying desperately not to pun, but gives and whispers “Rocky road.”

She is at one with the jungle around her, the stone against the soft skin of her hands.

She is Sisyphus.

She is secure in the knowledge that she may never move the stone.

She is resting after the labor of all that shifted rock.

She is happy to stand there, to push the stone.

She remembers Camus, ‘”Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night filled mountain, in itself forms a world. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”

She thinks it’s enough to fill a woman’s heart too.

She is happy.