They gave her an allegedly former broom closet in the back of the gallery for her installation.
Now, on opening night, people kept asking her how she found the inspiration for the mop and bucket in the corner.
“It is such an incredibly powerful comment on the mundane-ity of the post-relational human condition.”
“You have delivered a blow to the art world that will reverberate for years to come.”
“The juxtaposition of the morbid mop and vibrant bucket against the semi-art frou-frou in the rest of the installation just rebooted my mind.”
“I found the mop and bucket to be the most textured aspect of the experience.”
“I was excited beyond all rationality when I saw the wad of hair floating IN the filthy water IN the bucket – you are genius.”
Her installation (the semi-art frou-frou) was intended to be a map of her life.
She had destroyed every memento of her present and past (everything she owned, in fact) by a combination of smashing, painting over, drowning, and burning, and placed the pieces with extreme care in layers over walls and ceiling to create a topographic illustration of the landscapes of time she had lived to that point.
If she were to include tonight on the map, she thought, finding herself quietly asking the curator to arrange with the janitor for the mop and bucket to stay as-is, she would have to dig a hole in the wall, crawl in, and die.