Ngahuia Harrison

From Our Time Spent Underwater

// Opening Thursday 6 October, 6pm
// Friday 7 – Saturday 22 October 2016

There’s a moment in the movement where the stars just fall out from the sky. In a short moment of an arm being up and then down. In a easy movement of the leg lifting or the wing lifted. When they just fall on the floor, going to go get up river to burn in new formations.

There is A Eagle that screams into your face. It is frozen sideways. You’ve seen the memes of a eagle face-on and they look really strange. Is that a kind of metaphor for the Nation? But then the train moves and the thought stays on the platform.

Like how Our Bird is stuck-in-the-mud and that could be a metaphor too, right? Something about it being able to move again if only someone would crawl between its legs. Couldn’t our animal have been that crayfish? Did they know how to eat that lobster? But then you get to the museum and the thought stays on the train.

He said he would help you make wings that won’t burn on the Hudson. He’s lying on the floor with a towel over his head. And he watches the light change as he says that to you. He said home is just something you carry in your stomach that burns in new formations.