Sally Anderson
Bachelor of Fine Arts
Untitled
I said ‘milk, milk, flour, flower’.
Across a campfire Guido said ‘Joanna Newsom says the sky was a bread roll soaking in a milk bowl’.
You said ‘breadfruit’.
Jones said ‘pancakes’.
Bruce said ‘milkweed’.
Down the road there’s a place called Milk Beach. Somewhere there’s a book about milk splashes. The year after my mum was born Ed Ruscha made a work called ‘Glass of Milk, Falling’; I thought it was a glass of milk floating.
It’s kind of like when I say the word flour, everyone sees a different flower.
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