(b.1989, United Kingdom)
blister on my east foot, Installation of paintings and objects
Tuesday’s walk is golden.
Friday’s walk is black.
When walking, connections are made between geography, body and time, and the mind slows down to the pace of the feet; walking is a way of understanding place. A blue mark will become a puddle, a pool and then the sea. A brushstroke that started off as a mountain becomes a rock. Scale slips and slides and places form and dissolve and then reform again as somewhere new altogether. The place stays as fluid as the paint. I need horizons, and yet I always want to destroy them.