|26 x 17 x .2 cm|
When I was 23, my friend Marie died. She was Panamanian but lived in Paris, she had red hair and she was insane. All the pictures of her face in my brain have smiles on them.
A month or so after she died, I started this collage, just as a sort of abstract exercise. At a certain point, I stopped because it looked like Central America to me. I thought of the wonderful and crazy Marie who taught me how to drive stick shift, who carried a bottle of Jack in her back pack our final week in school.