When I was a little girl there was an abandoned house just down the road. My sister and our friends used to trespass and press our noses against the filtered windows and try with all of our might to peer into the past. Just on the other side were remnants of romantic and stormy lives. I felt I could sense and tap into the deposits of emotion that lingered beyond the pane.
As I have grown older, I still can see my breathe as it fogs each windowpane, only now the fog is a filter that serves to separate my past from my present. In the corner of a darkened room lingers the shadow of a body, my body. Shafts of light reflect off particles of dust revealing emotions that still mix and stimulate the atmosphere. At times I can still smell the remnants of attitude; other times...
For me there exists another plane, and infra-thin plane that lingers among worlds. Our emotions create these worlds in the places we inhabit; they remain there forever twisting the environment with character. The body of work before you is my translation of this infra-thin dimension that encompasses what remains when we are physically no longer present. These are my tangible frames of reference.
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