Previous Shows: 2015: We Play So Hard At Being Human: Sarah Granett

A proliferating amoeba shaped narrative. One becomes two, then four, eight, sixteen and so on. I hide things and miss moments. It's the ground I walk on and my contagious laugh. Breathe out the energy of breakfast - sun beams, begging children, a packed lunch. Breathe out the horn, swerve and duck. Consider the flexibility of a mark. That’s my stool - a piece of my day Pensive moment, then a car full of boxes. Breathe out the mind's venom. Breathe out restraint and limitation and hope. Probably don't breathe in. Without these my brain would become a hard rock. Because of these I think about chewing on my own arm. I curse my way through each delight.