grains — SVA Flatiron Gallery, School of Visual Arts, New York, 2022.
Shown alongside stills.
grains, in Ode to the Lake Sacalaia — Ronald H. Silverman Fine Arts Gallery, Cal State LA, July–August 2023.
I am thinking about a wind taking the place of my soul, and my soul liberated floating towards the cloud to melt around the sun.
I know about a dance that my wind-full body does between the daily rains, avoiding the drops falling wetly on the lake.
We are the same, me and you, you and me, same height, same eyes, same heart beat — both on the same side, almost alike, sky. Same love, and pain, mostly unfulfilled, mostly pain, drenched.
The lake then does its trick: grains and shines, splits and seeds, whirls and beats; bits and shadows, tears and scars, mine. You, adding to my equation.
Abstract black-and-white photographs so grainy that they're pointillistic, and printed on paper thin enough to just make out the picture on the next page — perhaps like a boater glimpsing what might be the roof of a basilica.— Rachel Harris-Huffman, Hyperallergic, 2023