Shredded Money

I’ve got a good-sized collection of shredded and powdered money.  I don’t actually shred or burn the money that I “work for.” 

Money, to me, is a mysterious object (involved in strange pervasive rituals),  more than it’s the “staff of life.”  I usually don’t call it “bread.”   Someday, I’ll tell some of my money stories.

Well, one example,  I was broke, wondering how I’d get any money to get groceries.  Just as I was thinking this, I saw a $10 bill blowing  through the grass!

I’ve never used the money pillow to sleep on.  It was in my exhibit at Detroit’s MOCAD art museum. 

Where would we be without it??  Could the world exist without money?


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