Portrait. She dances in the center of her area. Obscure to the look. She abandons us to her limit. Turn. Count the chips. Conjugate. Turn on yourself, in a blind echo. Cross the already deserted space.
Carolyn Carlson
Acting
Saturday Night Fever
Flashdance
Diving
Nothing Personal
Step Up
I Believe in Unicorns
My Mom Jayne
National Gallery
Avatar: Creating the World of Pandora
Miss Americana