Comfort with Money involves making short stories and collages that can be shared physically and/or digitally mixed with field recordings of spaces I encounter during the time of the residency.
Physical cash seems very different than what may or may not be in my bank account. I knew a painter who showed me his wallet and beautiful bills from Fiji, his homeland. For a job, I once needed $5000 in cash and the client’s bank gave it to me in fedpacks…as in The Fed. The bills were bundled and bound with wrappers like small paper bricks and I moved them in a cab instead of using the subway.
Teenagers from the South Bronx painted the papers I am using for Comfort with Money. They enjoyed mixing the colors but could not value the pages. It feels like I have paper to spare or share and can create new value from a stack that I regard as unused money from a place of waste and resilience. I have read about men who live in economies that involve eight digit compensation packages but I find it hard to imagine.
There are photos from my last meal with my father. At the time I was doing something silly with dumdum lollipops and we stacked the wrappers on the table as the candy disappeared.
