Diasec mounted pigment-print on Alu-Dibond

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Geography is an illusion of the eye.

I kept trying to find the place where the dark ended. Instead, flowers began appearing in it. Not as images of light. Something more primitive. A stem pushing through. A petal opening. I painted them, covered them, scraped them away, painted them again. Colour became less like colour and more like a condition.

Something the body enters before it knows what it is entering. Sometimes the flowers looked wounded. Sometimes excessive. Sometimes almost obscene in their insistence on being alive.
I kept thinking there must be another side. But perhaps the flower does not cross anything. Perhaps there is only this – the dark, the colour, the opening. And the strange fact of something growing there.