god save her
A poetry shelf. A book shelf. A kitchen shelf. The Pacific Shelf. Objects and subjects carefully placed–at a certain angle to the light, in concert with one another… And then, maybe, a shelf inside the ear upon which the sounds of words are placed. I think of Paula as the keeper of these shelves and their attendant forms of shelf life. And I think of her walking through her garden of words, or walking along the beach at Te Henga, where the wind from off the sea is the space between words.