Jean-Michel Basquiat, Earth, 1984
A single breath of planet. One blue curve against infinity. Clouds trailing white whispers. Oceans...
A single breath of planet. One blue curve against infinity. Clouds trailing white whispers. Oceans...
The world paused. A whisper grew into footsteps in every city, in every town. People...
Imagine a room full of earth. The air smells of damp soil, quiet, weighty. Footprints...
The circle tightens. We begin as dust, we return to earth. Between these two points,...
Traces remain: fingerprints in soil, fossils in stone, whispers of life beneath what we see....
There it is: the blue-green globe suspended in space, orbiting silence. Seas shimmer, continents dark,...
Within a tower’s walls, a circle of women sits in quiet vigil, threaded by labor...
Underfoot, there are sheets—silent strata of color: clay, loam, ash, sand. Each layer tells a...
We dress it in concrete, strings of lights, asphalt veins, steel spines. We call it...
A face emerges from the soil, both human and planetary. Eyes closed, lips parted, hair...