About the work

Sometimes you feel the cold before you see the rain. It’s a prickle, a tightening, a sudden awareness of skin. The world shifts, from what you thought it was to what it will be for the next few hours. And then you see the slickness, the light spreading out on the ground, and the knowledge settles. This, then, is the new condition. Even an impulse, a sharp urge to move, has to contend with it, has to factor in the weight of the air, the way the surface might betray. What was simple becomes complicated, a calculation of angles and effort against the drag of the inevitable. And always, somewhere, something waits.