CarrollBlog

While passing a very small backstreet art gallery I look, stop, then look again. The only thing in the gallery is one white wall with every possible inch covered by Bic ballpoint pens that have been glued onto it. You know the kind of pen-- transparent, with a blue cap you pull off and stick on the end while you're writing. I can only make a mad guess, but I'd wager that there were at least a thousand of them on that wall. They were in no particular design or pattern-- just pen upon pen upon pen on a wall. I'm thinking-- the piece can't be for sale because it's one wall of the gallery. You can't call it an exhibition because there's only that one piece. I'm standing there staring at a thousand ballpoint pens glued to a wall and trying to figure out just what the hell THAT all means. Or am I just fatally unhip? Shaking my head and shrugging my shoulders, I walk away ordering myself to stop trying to work out what it is I just saw.