I make these images to deepen my understanding of the different ways I experience land and myself in it.
Left and right, up and down, before and behind, inside and outside, near and far, there slowly becoming here and vice versa, these are the rhythms of moving my body through land. In single images and as an unfolding series, a variety of perspectives are presented simultaneously.
These photographs are made by joining two exposures captured in the same area;
one, a more expansive view of the landscape I’m moving through – searching for a destination); and two, a detail of the ground I’m walking on – a perspective necessary to complete the journey. Sometimes the two exposures are made without moving my feet, other times only a few feet are traveled, sometimes a mile, sometimes many. How far does one have to go before a place becomes another place? Some of these pairs are merged on-site, some are united nearby, a few are formed long after I’ve left a location. How does perception change with the passage of time? How do photographs influence that?
These images are as curious about time as they are about space.
Two moments, passing relatively closely together, are joined; the final image doesn’t appear until both moments have passed, but the images created in those moments persist and merge. Each moment and location becomes a part of a larger continuum. Accumulating slowly, building up layer upon layer, observation, memory, and imagination comingle.
Journeys are more than physical and literal.
If not for the abstract map, I might not know where or how to go and could easily become lost in floods of overwhelming sensations. If not for memory, I might not know how to find my way back. If not for imagination, I might not know where or why to carry on.
Consider this emotional archaeology.
These images are presented not as final answers or proof but as evidence found in an iterative process of questioning. While it’s clear that not all of the pieces have been found, larger patterns begin to emerge. At times the abstract patterns look like the larger land they are drawn from, other times they resemble more distant lands. There are lands within the land. There are lands within us. Some forms found in the land look like the human body. Our biology is a part of our geographies; our fibre is sewn from the fruits of many lands, we draw water from another, and as we breathe we move the lands within us into others.
We are lands within lands.