Jill Lynn Wrigley Poster print

“Left hand up: Ho! I am wounded. Right hand rises: Oh, I am light! Injured bird; bird in flight.” September of 2020 Requested by Suzanne Fontanesi Typo Grotesk font by Studio Typo Jill Wrigley was an amazing mother, attorney, and activist in Baltimore. Among many things, such as building a park in Irvington, organizing with Baltimoreans United In Leadership Development, she also fought for increased access to fruits and vegetables for Baltimore school children. Of food, she would often talk of it as being one of her primary focuses: “It’s a universal need,” she said. “In a way it’s a masterful way of making social change because it incorporates both the intimate and more grandiose love of large shifts in the political and social landscape.” She lived down the street from me with her husband Michael Sarbanes and their three children, and together they built the neighbourhood around themselves. The neighbours got together to commission this piece from me for her husband, Michael. Her whole poem, which she wrote in 2011, is here: Bird of Earth, by Jill Wrigley You have suffered one of the many causes of human grief. Some one or some thing essential to you has been lost—or mangled. Intentional or accidental, natural or manufactured: The list of possible reasons is long. Step forward and pull one sharp, shimmering shard from the ever-present, ever-changing mosaic of the natural history of humankind: This one is yours. At first you are surprised— by the acuteness of its angles, by its utterly unanticipated specificity, how it lands directly at your door. You try to hold it, roll it about in your hands, seeking to acquaint yourself with its strangeness. It keeps cutting you; yet you are compelled: Bleeding, you pick it up—again and again. Eventually ...

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