Current work

2004–2006

Installations

Public Art

1995–2003

Last Seen

I last saw you smiling, singing, or was it leaping from the porch. I last saw you running, skipping, or jumping like a mad hare in the yard. I last saw you walking the dog, throwing a stick, or pulling on your denim jacket. I last saw you rocking in your crib, dashing off to school, or walking down the aisle. I last saw you standing in the driveway, sitting on the bed, or dancing away into the crowd. I last saw you wearing a flower in your hair, eating a fish, or waving me off. I last saw you stop, look up, tip your hat and give me a wink. It was some old joke between us. In that place where walls disappear, the world is inside out and one season is constant. I grow old but you remain the same. Flash-—caught in the blink of an eye. Snapshot—you are the burn of an afterimage lit in the glow of your complement that lives inside my eyes.

Barbara Earl Thomas, 2005