I saw a piece of metal, standing, with an empty hole where part of a human should have been. I thought, how interesting, we’ll all be an absence someday. I later was a guest at Susie Stoisser’s back garden and saw huge, rusted metal dice cubes lying in the grass. As if some vanished pair of giants had been betting on a game of chance. And now a pair of ballet shoes dangle from the end of a plastic curtain. Was the ballerina obliterated, hung, banished to another profession? Or is she just taking a cigarette break? More shoes, then, tap dancing, or walking towards some unknown destination. Or maybe it’s an image of invisible models on a catwalk. The beauty of it is that it’s up to the viewer to decide.
NEIL JORDAN. 2016