Bronze, acrylic, paint
The Sleepwalker will be meandering about in a deep sleep until March 2017 on the High Line. In his dream, people walk past giving him strange looks. Some long to touch him. Others are afraid.
I want to dream like the Sleepwalker. Perhaps I do. Perhaps my whole life is but a long sleepwalk. I’ll know when I wake up. Perhaps I never will.
September 25th, 2016