About the work

That mud on its paw, still wet and clinging, is a testament. It connects this startling indoor creature to some unruly outdoors, a pond edge perhaps, a shallow bank where it startled something else before being startled itself. There’s a faint chill in the air of this room, I feel it, a morning dampness that hints at where this fox has just been, before the jarring intrusion. It’s an uninvited guest, clearly, and the sudden noise that drew its attention underscores the precariousness of its perch, not just on the bookshelf but in this entire domestic space. We understand the fox is not where it *should* be, and that is precisely where it is, caught in the sudden illumination. This is the moment before decision, before retreat or bolder investigation. It is a suspension.