About the work

The world is full of things that need to be made ready. Not just to be used, but to be known, to be felt. The ground, for instance, requires a certain violence to become itself again, to open. It has no memory of this disturbance, or if it does, it is a kind of forgetting that is itself a kind of readiness. The same might be said for the way light falls across a surface you’re not really looking at, or a sound that barely registers. Things are turning, always, whether you are part of their turning or not. They do not depend on your presence to exist, only to be perceived. And even then, they don't quite need that, either.