Destruction on the streets of Providence.

They left the bricks from the sidewalk,

the debris and cracks on the pavement.

Thinking about earthquakes,

I try to ignore it.

​

Try to focus on the day ...

Try to focus on the moment ...

Try to focus on where you live now ...

Break the walls between the place you are in

and the place your memories come from.

​

Bricks from the streets of Providence

of various size and texture;

some with spray paint

some with traces of fingerprints

some with a trace of a hammer

some broken by a root of a tree

some just broken because

someone wanted to break it ...

​

Blown glass bricks, cast glass bricks

and the bricks of Providence.

The sound of the helicopter,

aerial shots of my demolished hometown

just after the earthquake,

and the photographs I took

of the broken pavement,

projected on the wall.

Through the blown glass bricks,

the image got distorted.

​

What has been passed to you,

and what have you received?

There is something new to read.