The title of this piece, Glug, Glug, Glug, is an onomatopoeia for the sound of drowning. For a month and a half, I hired actors to sit in an enclosed window location to grieve and cry for two-hour stints. Programming occurred at high foot-traffic times in a downtown public building. The actors climbed inside a paper costume of rolling tears and waves to begin their performance, with only their head visible. They were also wirelessly miked, so a disembodied weeping sound was heard in various locations throughout the building.

Glug, Glug, Glug deals with the discomfort associated in witnessing someone be emotional, or show grief. Put in a overtly public space, a window within a high traffic walk-way, the passersby involuntarily watch someone reveal their grief and in turn, show their own response to this action. Reactions were varied and included some viewers wanting to extend their caring to the actor and stopping to see if they were okay; others ignored the performance, yet snuck a peak when they thought they actor could no longer see them; and even further, there was provocation where the viewer tried to make the actor come out of their role-playing and stop crying.