A person-made rock, a mass of concrete extending upwards and – in front- outwards.

The rock is split, down the middle, once-half of the rock separated about six inches from the other half – almost a passage through the rock, but too small for a person to fit in. The split is a clean cut; the sheer inside of each half of the rock is sheeted in plexiglass, a cover for light – a glow is cast into the split, it’s as if the rock has been split by light.

Scooped out of the rock, on all sides, are niches, filled with dirt; plants flow out of the holes and spill down the rock.

Into the rock, in the lower section that extends outward, an old car tire is inserted across the split, like a bridge. The tire provides a place to sit; a person sits in a place that’s something like a garden and at the same time something like an automobile junkyard – dropping into the tire, the person’s feet lift off the ground, the person sits in mid-air, over the split in the rock.