In another space we were like Superman or God (Yes, I know that sounds weird- but that's how it was.) At the same time, we were the opposite- nothing powerful, just body and flesh secondary from a life source but fully dependent upon it. We were meaningless as we looked at ourselves looking at ourselves again and again.
In another exhibit my own childhood memories were triggered- through soft things- stuffed animals and blankets- and I remembered something I had forgotten- Something yellow, made of yarn and a coat hanger. I was very young. I made it with loops and knots. He (Kelley) kept doing that sort of thing: It was all familiar but different.
One of my favorite pieces was a combination work of stage-prop and video- a woman dressed in cliche American farm-girl garb sang her heart out on a miniature set reflecting salt of the earth, American roots. Revealed through the performance was brilliance (I thought) beneath female masked-ignorance. I considered my tractor pics, taken by a 14 year-old-girlfriend in fun, that I ended up blocking on FB because the sarcasm wasn't grasped! (I couldn't accomplish what Kelley had done!)- certainly not on social media!
Yes, Kelley provides lots to digest. I don't know if I will sleep well tonight. My head is racing. It's a shame that Kelley committed suicide a couple of years ago. Having now experienced such a large collection of his pieces- I feel like I can actually see how he had the strength (or weakness?) and COMPULSIVENESS to carry out such an act. The rest of us don't get to see what more he would have done. That's disappointing.