(Lost Astronaut)
Dear Gina,

I am an astronaut by profession. I know you usually help artists but as I continue to be lost after my one and only trip to the moon 39 years ago, I feel that you are the person that can help me. My endeavors have never been celebrated. The mission I commanded was top secret and therefore not subject to the usual fanfare afforded to the Apollo boys. In fact, I was the first on the moon. I made it there, walked in that luscious white dust, planted a flag, and have photos to prove it! I was not so lucky with my return flight. I had the same problem that Gemini 8 had a year later, only more intense. The thruster malfunction caused my ship to spin out of control in a never ceasing orbit of Mother Earth. Never was I allowed a suitable ocean plunge until I was propelled out of space on August 13, 2009 in a meteor shower that threw a hundred stars with me. I now walk the streets of Manhattan, alone, unable to shed my space suit because no one will touch me. I am a healthy, drop-dead gorgeous, brilliant female; accomplished, with a savings account and a wealth of experience. I don't really want a husband, but I need relief. You see, something about this ill-fitted suit and all those years of spinning has left me in a suspended state of excitement. Houston, Houston do you read?

Suite a la création d'un personnage fictif - un ancien cosmonaute jamais remis de sa seule mission sur la lune - Alicia Framis à errer dans les rues de New York pendant 15 jours,réalisant les instructions commandées par 15 artistes et écrivains.

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