I like this piece in conjunction with a poem my nephew, Reese Fulgenzi wrote, “Where I Am From”. The little person in my piece is standing in a vase, which is the negative space between the two profiles—to me the person looks like they are wondering where they are and questioning their “place”. Where at once you can be inside something yet outside of it also.
Where I Am From
I am from the Atlantic coast, from Catalinian decks and seashell-scattered shores.
I am from the windswept plains, herds of Buffalo and the sweltering summer heat.
I am from the cormorants’ cries and the slowly setting sun over the bay.
I am from music, from Lorenzo and Bethany alike, from the common man with
untold brilliance and the powerful, imprudent leaders of old.
I am from reading and somnolent, coffee-guzzling mornings.
From the monsters under my bed and the real ones all around me,
I am taught of Catholicism and taught and taught again for naught,
I am from Lazio, from Prague. From jocundity and joie de vivre, sobriety supplant.
I am from the bayside terrace of Napoli, the winding streets of Cecoslovacchia
from a family spanning aeons and a history along with the universe.
I am borne of the sound of silence and the entropy of calm, the quiet of calamity.
by © Reese Fulgenzi
I particularly like the last line of Reese’s poem, “I am borne of the sound of silence and the entropy of calm, the quiet of calamity.” It makes me think of something I came across recently The Sounds of the Big Bang by University of Virginia astronomy professor Mark Whittle. I have been thinking a great deal about sound, my relationship to sound and what it means to me—as mostly I’ve always thought only of the visual.