Where Does the Sun Go at Night?
The world turns one thousand miles per hour, but seems to lay still. The sun’s left on its commute, gone elsewhere to work its day job, bathing some distant place with its loving tendrils. Anxieties weave inside of me as our world yields to rapid changes. The moon appears and begins to extract my struggles with feelings, with people, with the boring daily minutiae I’ve yet to experience, and with the memories of places I’ve been, to which I’ll never return. I envision them with the sun there at this very moment.
I once again form an escape, descending deeper and further away from reality. The heaviness of my eyelids becomes more apparent. I find comfort in the choreographed pixels of screens, the neon dystopia of a Sci-Fi film from the 80s. Their facade distracts my mind and I return to a simpler time of karmic ideologies, good and bad.
My internal clock sounds before the one beside me on my nightstand. The tree outside my window is projected through the colored curtain onto the inside of my room. The sun has returned.
Written by: Noah Markoe & Sam Branden
Clair Morey (B. 1992, Columbus, OH) received her BFA from Columbus College of Art & Design and is an MFA candidate at Miami University. Morey has exhibited at A.D. (New York), At Large Gallery (Brooklyn), Space Heater Gallery (Brooklyn), OSU Urban Arts Space (Columbus), and previously showed at No Place Gallery in 2017. Morey’s work has been included inHiss Magazine, ARTnews, O Fluxo,andTzvetnik. Morey currently lives and works in Oxford, Ohio.clairmorey.net/painting