Ants, Razors, and Rick Araluce's miniatures

Sometimes I get tired of looking at words. Words and words. They begin to make no sense. Or they do, but then I look at someone else's words and then my words look meaningless and stupid. Now my words are just random words. Now they're just consonants and vowels. Now they're not even that. Now they're ants on the page. antsantsantsantsantsants ants ants antsantsants ants ants antsantsantsantsantsants ants ants antsantsants ants ants antsantsantsantsantsants ants ants antsantsants ants ants antsantsantsantsantsants ants ants antsantsants ants ants ants ants ants antsantsantsantsantsantsants ants ants antsantsants ants ants crawling all over the fucking page.

I should stop using cheap razors. Or I should pay more attention in the shower. Or I should throw them away after a few uses instead of thinking I can use them one more time. Or I should just stop cutting myself. It all seems so easy.

Come now, children. You can do this. Break open my soul. Tell me I am here and you are not, and what that means. Do you know what that means? If you don't, tell me that. Tell me something with your words, and maybe your words will crawl all over me and make me freak out and I will yell ANTS and then we can be friends. Or maybe we were friends once but you forgot about the words we licked up or maybe I forgot but you can take out your razor now and tell me again.

Or maybe you are tired of looking at words too.


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The Predator by Rick Araluce

If you're in CA, check out his show. More of his pieces here. I had a hard time choosing one. I think JS, if she is reading this, will like A Bad Plan best. I want all of them, one for each room in my house, and maybe people (who am I kidding, I never have anyone over) who come for a tour of my house will wonder if each room is somehow represented by these miniatures. And then they will be scared and wonder if they should make a polite goodbye. They probably should.