Something happened to my super-speed. The flash of quickness I once relied on to propel me past any other living kid left me and I began to limp from an ache localized at the top of my left leg. This progressed into a sharp and steep pain, preventing me from walking, from hobbling, until finally I simply hopped everywhere on my right foot.
Sean Caulfield is an Edmonton artist whose work explores the impact of technology on the environment and our bodies. He is interested in creating visual images that blur boundaries between the biological and the technological, the organic and the mechanical, and which challenge viewers to consider the implications of this merging. Caulfield is a Centennial Professor in the Department of Art and Design at the University of Alberta. He has exhibited his prints, drawings, and artist’s books extensively throughout Canada, the United States, Europe, and Japan.
She can’t tell her bus pass from a bird so knows the pills have found their way to the microphone in her brain and she’ll have to walk. The mating ritual of the clouds is pornographic and she blushes wondering why it’s even allowed. A part of her had sat down many years ago and refused to get up. This is who she feeds these pills to in the hopes that she’ll be trusted and then perhaps liked. Her therapist has not weathered well and is now leaking, water getting into his voice so when he says mother