The Weight of My Body in Ice
Exhibited in 2016 as part of Glacial Actions of a Memory in London, Ontario
The coming and going of life. The subtle dissipation of its moisture. A drip. A drop. An old man’s last dribble of saliva rejoins a cloud that looks like nothing in particular. An infant’s first tear frozen in a glacier comes ever closer to trickling into the ocean. The adoration printed every night around the world on white sheets with the brine from lovers’ pores. Not capturing this movement, but stilling it, distilling it. Trace, residue, leftovers, the remainder, what gets carried over, the difference, what gets left behind. Never severing it completely from where it came from or where it’s going, but slowing it down just enough to share. To share these stories of utter insignificance and total uniqueness with people who are, like myself, just as insignificant and unique in the grand scheme of things.
Exhibited in 2016 as part of Glacial Actions of a Memory in London, Ontario
The coming and going of life. The subtle dissipation of its moisture. A drip. A drop. An old man’s last dribble of saliva rejoins a cloud that looks like nothing in particular. An infant’s first tear frozen in a glacier comes ever closer to trickling into the ocean. The adoration printed every night around the world on white sheets with the brine from lovers’ pores. Not capturing this movement, but stilling it, distilling it. Trace, residue, leftovers, the remainder, what gets carried over, the difference, what gets left behind. Never severing it completely from where it came from or where it’s going, but slowing it down just enough to share. To share these stories of utter insignificance and total uniqueness with people who are, like myself, just as insignificant and unique in the grand scheme of things.
