Tricia Asklar Sculpture From a Single Piece of Paper Surrounded By a Simple Wooden Frame on a Blue Background with a Sheep
—after Peter Callesen’s “The Lost Sheep, 2006”
Here is a landscape of clouds not quite cut out. The shape of our sheep is not here, but outside of the sheet. She looks up at the absence of cloud the same color as her shy square of pasture. The cuts of curls are ridged into her sides with the same cruel razor that removed her from the field of white. Hello, she says to the edge of white, hello to the eye of the absent cloud. The ominous shadow of the paper rises from the frame, as if it is making to float up and leave its sheep behind. O, for paper wool, for wool paper. O, knit a place back in the sky for her head lifted to its missing space. O sacred ewe of farm animals, apple of Eves, window watcher, wrong wanderer of the frame, lonely shadow, sweet mutton, minister to our own vain wish to be part of the sky.
Asklar
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