Tag Archives: #TheSpoon

#TheSpoon

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“Guerilla Art” By Domenic Esposito, Fernando Luis Alvarez Gallery, Stamford CT

I save the bent and burnt spoons when I come upon them now. I never thought I would; but I do.

There was a point when I saw them and didn’t understand what was in front of me.

Then another point in time when I’d find them and burst into tears, much like I imagine Domenic Esposito’s mother must have done when she found yet another burnt spoon, throwing it in the garbage, quickly, like it was still scorching hot.

There aren’t many now, just two in the drawer, occasionally resurfacing from some mysterious hiding place. I let them swim freely in the utensil drawer; those two broken reminders of darker days, surprising me, reemerging without warning.

Domenic listened to his panic-stricken mother’s cries, his brothers tool of destruction found bent and burnt. He honored her and every mother who ever cried out in pain when they found yet another spoon or perhaps couldn’t find any, and for every person lost to heroin; the consequence of phenomenal greed and the heartlessness, when he created a ten and half-foot long, 800-pound steel tribute, in the shape of a spoon, and delivered it to the doorstep of Purdue, the golden egg of the Sacklers. The hundreds of thousands of dead, not enough of a reason for the Sacklers to come under the scrutiny of our criminal justice system, though blocking the driveway of the offices where this plague was born and refusing to move Domenic’s “guerilla art” is a felony.

I imagine this beautiful, painful piece of art is made of all of the spoons found by mothers like me, bent and burnt, tears and steel, melted together and calling out for justice for our children from its’ place on Purdue’s driveway.

They can’t relate, the Sacklers, their spoons are made of gold… and blood.

I save the bent and burnt spoons to remind me of where I have been although I can’t forget and to remain grateful for how far I have come, but also because they symbolize my vow to never forget that I have been spared to fight for justice for those no longer here, unable to fight for themselves.

Thank you Domenic Esposito and Fernando Luis Alvarez.

Strength in numbers!