Spinning, by Joe Bohlinger

I didn’t remember having two doorknobs…
They seemed to float before me, flickering golden embers that burned to the unfamiliar touch. I groped for the right one. I slapped my hand angrily towards the light until I felt the solidity and coolness that I had grasped so many times before. I was back at the apartment. I was home.
***
I don’t like it when Mommy leaves. The house makes scary noises. It’s really hard to sleep with my coughing. It hurts so bad when I cough. My chest hurts so bad. I wish Mommy was home. I just can’t stop coughing.
***
“What the h-h-hell is that?” I yelled as Gabriel’s coughing stung my ears. I couldn’t deal with any loud noises right now. My vision rattled and my head felt heavy. The bitter and fiery taste hadn’t left my throat, and I could smell the acute sourness leave my mouth with each breath. The coughing wouldn’t stop. “Shut up Gabriel! I’m coming!”
***
I don’t like it when Mommy yells. It makes me scared. The house is already yelling at me. It croaks and creaks and makes the scariest noises. It’s so big. I feel lost inside it. I could hear Mommy making loud noises in the kitchen.


***
“Where is the goddamn cough medicine?” I heard myself say aloud. Gabriel’s cries echoed in repeat like a broken record: Spinning. Spinning. Spinning. My head was spinning. I no longer seemed to control my movements. My hand floated, now the arm of a ghost, up to the cabinet. Numbness crept about my body, latching itself on to my nerves. My detached arm flopped about the cabinet, grasping and groping for the small pink bottle. The ceramic plates toppled to the floor. The Tupperware lids hit me in the head. Where was that goddamn bottle…
***
“Mo-” I coughed before I could finish. It hurt my chest.
***
“Gabriel! You’d better stop coughing! I told you I’m coming!”
***
I held in the coughs as best as I could so Mommy wouldn’t be mad at me.
***
Finally. The fluorescent kitchen light made the pink bottle glow. I pulled it off the shelf. I held it up to my eyes. Spinning. Spinning. Spinning. The words spun before me. I could see the number one. I could see the word Gdenar. Danger? The words were spinning… I could see Warning. I saw a 1-800 phone number. I saw the word tablespoon. Gabriel let out a stifled cough. The apartment was so small, I could feel the hot air from his cough. “Damnit Gabriel! I’m coming!”


***
I didn’t want Mommy to come anymore. Her noises are scary. I can hold the cough in till I fall asleep.
***
The hallway looked so narrow, and the ceiling was so low. I didn’t know if I could make it all the way to Gabriel’s room. I leaned on the wall as I walked. My arm scraped against the white paint gluing me to the wall. I slid, leaving a trail of stinging alcoholic discretion to forever stain the whiteness behind me.
***
Mommy was coming. I could hear her in the walls. I covered my ears. I tried not to hear. I closed my mouth. I tried not to cough. I shut my eyes. I tried not to cry. I held my nose. I tried not to breathe.
***
I didn’t open Gabriel’s door. I seemed to slither beneath it. He was huddled on his bed. His chest heaved up and down, but his mouth remained closed. The fan on his ceiling was spinning. Spinning. Spinning. Spinning.
***
Mommy fell on top of me. It hurt.
***
My eyes opened, and I was draped across Gabriel. I tried to stand, but I just fell back upon him.
***
I tried so hard to keep quiet, but it hurt so bad.
***
He whimpered when I fell on top of him. I knew I couldn’t stand. I handed him the pink bottle. I could feel the air spinning from the fan. Spinning. Spinning. Spinning. I handed Gabriel the bottle. “Here honey, drink this.”
***
“All of it Mo-” I coughed. I couldn’t stop.
***
Oh god. The coughing hurt my head so bad. I tried to remember the bottle. The words were just spinning though. Spinning. Spinning. Spinning. But he was coughing so much. “Drink it sweetie.”
***
I didn’t want to drink it. “It’s too much Mommy.”
***
“Drink it Gabriel! Now!”
***
It tasted icky. I felt sick.
***
He kept coughing.
***
Everything was dark. I could barely see Mommy.
***
He stopped coughing.
***
I stopped coughing! Mommy was always right. I looked at her, on top of my legs. I felt happy.
***
The fan was spinning.
***
My heart was quiet now. I couldn’t hear it in my chest. I couldn’t see mommy.
***
Spinning.
***
“Mommy?” I thought, but I couldn’t talk it.
***
Spinning.
***
It was dark now…
***
Spinning…
***
Imagine you are spinning. You move around and around. But you always return to the same place. No matter how far away from it you go, you always come back. If you’re spinning, you will return to it. It’s always the same. You can trust that you will always come back to that one spot. And, believe it or not, we are all spinning. Dancers spin, making sure they choose a spot to come back to so they can stay on balance. The Earth spins, and the days and nights always come at the same time. And children spin. They spin around and around with only one thing to come back to. Mommy and Daddy. No matter how far they go, children can always come back to Mommy and Daddy. But,
what happens when Mommy and Daddy are spinning too?

Liu Bolin, "The Invisible Man"

Say hello to the real-life Invisible Man, Chinese contemporary artist Liu Bolin. Bolin graduated from the sculpture department of Beijing's Central Academy of Fine Arts and is now best known for taking photographs of himself or other people painted head to toe in order to blend in to whatever background. 

This photograph is part of Bolin's "Dragon Series," which was featured in his most recent show presented by Eli Klein Fine Art in New York. Since his first solo shows in Beijing in 1998, Bolin has showcased his work in solo and group shows worldwide, including the U.S., France, and Venezuela. 

Kenny Scharf x Liu Bolin

Part of Bolin's "Hiding In Italy" series

To see more of Bolin's work, click here. If you enjoy Liu Bolin's work, check out artist Alexa Meade, who also paints on people in order to make them look like actual paintings.