Headwater
I woke up on a rug, inverted
I woke up on a rug that was facing the floor
I woke up to a house where both the wind and the shutters lived inside
I woke up looking for my cat.
I declined the doughnut shaped bag
from the fool that tip toed away
I left the ceilings on the basement floor
in puddles that pooled me away
I laid back down into my body.
Where I had promised myself I would lie
I woke up with wet eyes,
I woke up mid apology.
Peyton Peyton • she/her • Brooklyn, NY
Peyton Peyton works across sculpture, performance, textiles, and words. Her practice circles transformation, digestion, and humor through unstable materials and playful gestures. Rooted in craft and bodily experience, her work drifts between clarity and collapse, shaped by chronic disorientation and a commitment to keeping work alive in process, never stagnant or complete.
