Becoming. Emerging. Expansion. "In time." Infinity. Patience. Potential. Predictions. Faith in the invisible. The imagined. The unseen. The destined. Rebirth. Fluidity. Unfolding. Unborn. Dreams. New memories. Ten-year plans. After your existence. A chrysalis. A better world. Healed wounds. Parallel lines that meet.
In Becoming, I talk about the various stages of experiencing a change. I was inspired by old biology textbook diagrams and their ability to simplify nature's complex processes.
Whether it is self-initiated or out of our control, change always involves alchemy. Sometimes, it is marked by a cocoon period where retracting into the self allows the transformation process to proceed. It is isolating and painful. But as I've found, things often fall away to make space for something new.
All video footage is from Pexels
Garden Ambience sound by
EarthsoundsPast Futures was inspired by George Legrady’s 2015 solo exhibition,
Day & Night. I was fascinated by how he superimposed nature scapes over family photos to create surreal scenes. It is a visual conversation between the past and present that changes with every viewing.
Julie Cohen describes it as "an exploration of the mystery of how photographs tell stories: descriptively inadequate but nonetheless convincing visual records of events that acquire a recognizable cultural patina over time."
If individual photographs tell stories, what kind of tapestry is formed when you stitch them together?
All of the photos used are from my personal collection.
Things That Take Time is the first thing I wrote for
An Explanation of Time. It was the original introduction piece. But I struggled with it, left it unfinished, and it didn't make the final print. While working on the zine's site, I found it in some old notes.
In total, this list took me eight months to complete.
It serves as a reminder not to rush things. We may not always understand why, but things (and words) all have their time.
Arpeggio synth track by
aptbrLike the digital and print zine, I close out An Exploration of Time with a poem dedicated to my future child. I attempt to recall the day they were born and give them my best wishes.
In this version, the wave is alive and morphing, bringing back the idea of Minika ye minienie. Here, the wave serves to visualize the time we must travel through to meet each other. Alternatively, a child can be thought of as an extension of their parents' waves.