What is an hour? a piece of time. a piece of day. a piece of life. 

The notion of time as intangible is errant. It has a deeply conspicuous materiality, local to the point of the microscopic. To create a fourth dimension, to build it, to enfold space with gravity so that matter is bound by temporality, prerequisites the thickness of length, width, height.

 

In the legacy of artists such as Richard Long and Robert Smithson, I have been investigating this inseparability of time and space. My work hovers between material and phenomenological. It is born out of moments of personal perception of time––minutes lost to a daydream, the body’s compensating for jetlag, the subtle shift of sky from blue to green to pink at sunset. Memory, possibly our only form of retrograde time travel, is triggered by the sensory preceptors within our bodies. This propensity to link multiple temporalities by a shared physicality reveals the tactility of time.

 

In this vein, I have been conducting experiments with the material of clay. This material has its own structures of time, both geologically, with the origin of its particles, and in relation to its behaviors of drying, cracking, and the process of recycling into its initial wet state. Out of these investigations, I create installations employing video and photography to activate the body’s innate physical reactions to sunlight. Other works engage the more somatic gestures of walking, tracing, handwriting, and engaging with clay as it interacts with the body.

 

In a parallel practice of writing, I have been exploring the related metaphoric motifs of absorbency, psychosomatics, and the processes or elements of nature. I participate in research and dialogue around concepts of time-keeping, quantum physics, and sense perception––trying to grasp at that fourth dimension, transience itself.