HOVERING IN THE THRESHOLD THINKING OF ALL THE DIFFERENT WAYS THAT PEOPLE HAVE TO WAIT
MFA Thesis
Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts
Wandering, discovering and recording.
Researching, collecting and referencing.
Exploring the deterioration of architecture and the erosion of soil, I look through windows and gates and notice the layering of time artifacts and natural wonders. Considering what it means to pass and preserve, I am hovering in the threshold thinking about what it means to wait.
Imagine yourself suspended in this between-space of transformation. What vibrant materials are surrounding you? How are you forming yourself within this space?
the work between us
Digital Photograph, Inkjet Print on Polyester Voile, 123” x 57”, 2021
In Jean Fisher’s essay, The Work Between Us, she writes about cultural dislocation and the right to not belong.
false door
Digital Photograph, Inkjet Print on Silk, 45” x 45”, 2021
In Ancient Egypt, a false door was a threshold between the living and the dead where the spirit of the deceased could enter and exit. The living would leave offerings for the spirit on a slab in front of the door.
presumptive generosity
Digital Photograph, Inkjet Print on Silk, 43” x 45”, 2021
“I tell my alter-tale because it seems to me that presumptive generosity, as well as the will to social justice, are sustained by periodic bouts of being enamored with existence, and that it is too hard to love a disenchanted world.” - Jane Bennett
radical permeability
Digital Photograph, Inkjet Print on Polyester Voile, 123” x 57”, 2021
In her book, The Enchantment of Modern Life, Jane Bennett writes about the magic of transformation through examples of cross species metamorphosis. She calls it radical permeability and connects it to equalizing marginalized and diasporic groups, shifting the onus of metamorphosis to the privileged in responding to injustice.
let the chips fall
Digital Photograph, Inkjet Print on Silk, 108” x 50”, 2021
What happens when tragedies aren’t acknowledged? What happens to intersectionality when certain histories aren’t included?
interstitium
Digital Photograph, Inkjet Print on Silk, 65” x 50”, 2021
The body contains spaces between our organs that disappear and reappear as we move. The interstitium is a space of crossing where fluids pass between systems and organs. There are therapeutic interventions being made by crossing into fascial interstitium spaces for more targeted delivery of drugs, proteins and antibody therapies.
I’m wondering if there are parallels between what is working scientifically to heal bodies and what possibilities may exist for healing in other modalities. If between-spaces are so important to understanding the body, then is it possible that they are equally important in how we relate to each other?
borderspace
Digital Photograph, Inkjet Print on Silk, 65” x 50”, 2021
Alessandro Petti writes, “A border is not a line,” in his essay, On The Border. A border is a literal between space that is political, cultural or social. Borders can be exciting or oppressive. What does it mean to cross a border?
Moving between spaces with intentionality means letting go of the objective (and privilege) of rushing from one place to the next. It is negotiating one space with another through the process of passage.
Foreshadowing
Digital Photograph, Inkjet Print on Polyester Voile, 123” x 98.25”, 2021
“You once knew that space is made by objects, and that as we move between and interact with objects we are formed. We are from the past, but we echo and reverberate in the future. What a responsibility!” -Jimmie Durham
strategic optimism
Digital Photograph, Inkjet Print on Silk, 43” x 50”, 2021
“We try to maintain a strategic optimism.” These words were spoken by human rights lawyer, Raji Sourani, when we met him at his office in Gaza City. The next day we attended a peaceful protest in Rafah and tear gas bombs exploded into the crowd. I had a bottle of lavender essential oil in my pocket, so I put some on my hand and covered my face. It helped, so I sprinkled in on the hands of everyone around me. Before I knew it, children were flocking around me to get a bit of oil. They were annoyed with me when I left. To this day I regret not giving them the bottle. The bottle was hope and I kept it from them.
trace
Digital Photograph, Inkjet Print on Silk, 108” x 50”, 2021
I would like to take some time to dwell on the between-space of trace. A trace of something, like an expression that is barely there but you see it and know it. A trace as a mark or stain left by something that is now gone, like a ring formed under your coffee cup that is now in the sink, or a scar, or a bubble popped on your tabletop. A trace that marks a path that has been traveled before. Tracing pictures and drawings is something like this. Tracing line is wonderful for building confidence in the same way that hiking a trail gives a person a sense of accomplishment. The dictionary references the oldest known uses of the English word, “trace,” in relation to traversing and delineation which makes me think about the discovery of lands already occupied and mapmaking. In soap making, trace is when alkaline and acid have sufficiently mixed for optimal saponification. You know the formula has reached trace when the liquid is viscous enough to leave a trace of itself on its surface before disappearing back into itself.