Calvin Miceli-Nelson / Everything Radiated Heat in the Yard / June 28 – July 26, 2026
Knocking bottles into the long brown shadows with a great song of clinking
and banging, he looked back just long enough for me to see his collar catch
the damp glow of the morning light.
2026
35 x 42 inches
Acrylic and ink on linen
I look out past the dull panes of glass which reflect the blue flames of
burning gas, and stare into the garbage patch. Today there is no time to
look, there is too much work to be done. But tonight there will be time.
2026
35 x 42 inches
Acrylic and ink on linen
I felt my collar press against my neck where the fabric of my coat wrapped tightly
around me. I thought mostly about what was to come. Where he might be headed,
and what I was still doing here.
2026
35 x 42 inches
Acrylic and ink on linen
A small voice turned over many words rather quickly and in this blurred
speech I felt only a vague sense of a
feeling without form, one which certainly involved the death of a party kin to
me.
2026
35 x 42 inches
Acrylic and ink on linen
To the left and right of our building are two large and dilapidated Victorian
manors, still charming despite coming apart at the seams. Paint chips flake
off their sides leaving intricate patterns of wood grain exposed.
2026
35 x 42 inches
Acrylic and ink on linen
The patterns which had wallpapered the room with small red flowers, were not some
feverish imagination but rather a simple overlay of light, not a thought, and certainly
not a delusion.
2026
35 x 42 inches
Acrylic and ink on linen
