30 Jun Through a glass darkly

What I see through the lens of the tree, the glass of the work, shifts and fractures. Each time I reiterate the process something new emerges. This time along my eye line, and down the axis of my body is blank. A shadow of a window frame inadvertently formed in moving works to see how they speak in dialogue. The traces of different larger works play off each other in different ways, different depths and textures, different stories.

When I’m opening the digital files of the photographs a new image appears – an addition, a symbol of more. The cross of Christianity, of older beliefs, of the four elements. One of our first symbols. Traces left in our deep pre-history.

Turned on it’s side its a stitch, a negation. Something corrected or warded away.