Inventory of the Studio
one chisel, blunt from arguing with marble, a jar of brushes standing like a field after rain, the window, which I count as a tool, and you, at the door, asking if I've eaten.
— E.I., 2024Silver
The darkroom keeps its own hours. I wait for a face to rise out of the tray like a swimmer who has decided, at the last moment, to come back.
— E.I., 2021Paros
My grandmother said the stone remembers the sea. I believed her the way you believe the radio: half for the words, half for the voice. Now I put my ear to the block and listen.
— E.I., 2025Black, Mostly
People ask why there is no colour. I tell them colour is a loud guest. I would rather hear what the grey has been trying to say all evening.
— E.I., 2026Test
Test teste very testy test test testy test test testy testy test test
— E.I., 2026