|Title||Mortal Salt: What Lot’s Wife Would’ve Said (If She Wasn’t a Pillar of Salt)|
|Artist / Creator||Daniel R. Smith|
|Place of Publication||Seattle, WA|
|Author of Text||Karen Finneyfrock|
|Process / Technique||Digital print on repackaged corporate salt canister|
|Image Process||Digital remix of Morton's Salt label|
|Dimensions (WxHxD)||5.25 x 3.5 x 3.5 inches|
|Edition Size||Edition of 100|
|Signed & Numbered||Yes|
Karen Finneyfrock’s What Lot’s Wife Would Have Said (If She Wasn’t a Pillar of Salt) is a moving poem which draws parallels between Lot’s flight from Sodom and Gomorrah, the on-going AIDs crisis and the notion of gay marriage. Its consumer-driven presentation is based on the premise that a canister of salt is more beloved to Americans than any god damned poet. Click here to see a video of Karen Finneyfrock performing this powerful poem. "What Lot's Wife Would Have Said (If She Wasn't a Pillar of Salt)" by Karen Finneyfrock Do you remember when we met in Gomorrah? When you were still beardless, and I would oil my hair in the lamp light before seeing you, when we were young, and blushed with youth like bruised fruit. Did we care then what our neighbors did in the dark? When our first daughter was born on the River Jordan, when our second cracked her pink head from my body like a promise, did we worry what our friends might be doing with their tongues? What new crevices they found to lick love into or strange flesh to push pleasure from, when we called them Sodomites then, all we meant by it was neighbor. When the angels told us to run from the city, I went with you, but even the angels knew that women always look back. Let me describe for you, Lot, what your city looked like burning since you never turned around to see it. Sulfur ran its sticky fingers over the skin of our countrymen. It smelled like burning hair and rancid eggs. I watched as our friends pulled chunks of brimstone from their faces. Is any form of loving this indecent? Cover your eyes tight, husband, until you see stars, convince yourself you are looking at Heaven. Because any man weak enough to hide his eyes while his neighbors are punished for the way they love deserves a vengeful god. I would say these things to you now, Lot, but an ocean has dried itself on my tongue. So instead I will stand here, while my body blows itself grain by grain back over the Land of Canaan. I will stand here and I will watch you run.
Artist BioDaniel R. Smith is a Seattle graphic designer, artist and curator. He organized three major poster exhibits for Bumbershoot promoting dialogue between designers in Seattle and those in Havana, Tehran and Moscow. He is currently Design Director at Tether, a design and branding firm in Pioneer Square, where he organized the provocative exhibit "Thunderbitch: Women Designers in Northwest Rock 1966-2010." His work is included in the Seattle City Light public art collection and Experience Music Project's permanent collection.