Longing turns to desire, mourning to melancholy, complacency to joy, liking to loving and passivity to action, but what is the boiling point?
There’s a pressure to look inwards and document information lodged within the psyche, but letting someone else in is hard.
I want to care for the surface, while trying to be in touch with what’s below.
Markings, text and images come and go. Organisms, angels, demons, spirits comingle in a murky swamp.
Stories and feelings are confused about what stories and feelings they tell. What to feel, what to sense?
I want to have a one-on-one conversation. My work records this attempt with nervous optimism.