Artist Statement: Catherine MelinaI spoke to so many parents of murdered children. And I thought of my children, one son, one daughter. And I tried to imagine living through their deaths. And beyond. I tried to imagine them walking out the door for school and never returning, a casual goodbye and then a void, forever.
I felt a burning in my chest as if I had tried to swallow a stone, a stone that, if it could be wrenched from my throat, would be visible as a huge orb, ten, twelve feet across. I imagined that it would be so dense that if it were laid on the ground it would sink into the earth, puncturing its skin, causing the earth to bleed.
This stream, the visible trace of murder, would gush from around the stone, and flow downhill, first cresting with the impetus of the jetting blood, then slowing to a flat stream, and at last becoming a barely stirring pool of water.