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Marti Flicker is a New York based artist, dancer,choreographer, and writer. She has performed at numerous dance and performance art venues, her role altering between director and performer. Her work incorporates the use of visual art, text, and movement, creating a dialogue between mind and body. Marti is currently pursuing a degree in English and dance. This is her second exhibition at SUS Galleries.
Exhibitions at SUS:
Marti Flicker is a New York based artist, dancer,choreographer, and writer. She has performed at numerous dance and performance art venues, her role altering between director and performer. Her work incorporates the use of visual art, text, and movement, creating a dialogue between mind and body. Marti is currently pursuing a degree in English and dance. This is her second exhibition at SUS Galleries.
Exhibitions at SUS:
Today felt unsure
I ate nothing
I didn’t shower but washed my hands often
Today was a Wednesday
I felt nothing
I felt uneasy
I washed my hands and my nail beds were bleeding
Today is a Friday
And so I laughed out loud
I opted for chicken and flattened my hair
I am exceptional.
This is the tale of Scraps.
He sunk low in his seat.
He sunk a little further, and melted into the
chair.
I am a pool, he thought.
The world swayed and he grew to the left,
it swayed again and he grew a little more.
I’m all sorts of mixed up, he said.
I do not know where to begin.
You are extraordinary I tell him.
Thanks, he said.
Thanks I say in return.
I am a rainbow in another place, he says.
You are tremendous I tell him.
I am all sorts of mixed up, I do not know where
to begin.
You already have, I told him.
Scraps perked up
He rippled with content
The world was beginning and Scraps was
exceptional.
Absurdity found me last night.
He periodically touched me to make sure I was still there,
And left me the next day.
She called me something nice.
I don’t remember what it was.
I hated her.
She looked at me funny.
I am funny.
I was overcome with want.
I wanted to pick something up, put it someplace else, and watch it grow.
Summer had been sweaty. My hair was too red, my skin was too red, and
a pain shot through my ankle with every step I took.
I loved New York, I love New York. My belt was too tight, my teeth never whiter.