a little text that I wrote after being refused entry into the U.S. in late 2018, this is the text published on Dec. 7th, 2018. a version of this recorded was included in a soundscape presented by Joseph Sannicandro (@thenewobjective) in Boston.
U.S. border agent asks if you know Nelson Mendela’s work, while examining your belongings. you respond positively with a smile, your then lead to a border zone waiting area. // snow outside is pretty, sun shining on strange glass & steel concert border post, looking like a cold industrial lego set for an imagined Walmart-style colonial fortress. // fast forward a couple hours, phone confiscated. agents sit in front of you, armed. a giant flat screen is recording you, Homeland Security guys identify themselves, tell you your being recorded, ask many questions, grandparent names, places you have visited, ”why ? why ? why ?” more questions about your art also. you start getting foggy, what is there to really say ? // no trip to Boston, but my latest zine was folded open by the Homeland Security agent, “so, is this your art?” // forced finger prints & photos, “or you can sit in a cell.” not cool. // borders no more, sunshine sees no borders, life sees no borders, that’s the truth.
