mm
in the space created by dissecting a photograph, particles float outside of time
mm creased 1
2007
digital c-type print, 40 x 30 cm
mm creased 4
2007
digital c-type print, 40 x 30 cm
mm creased 5
2007
digital c-type print, 40 x 30 cm
mm creased 6
2007
digital c-type print, 40 x 30 cm
mm negative future
2004
digital c-type print, 60 x 70 cm
mm particles 2
2009
digital c-type print, 40 x 30 cm
mm particles 4
2009
digital c-type print, 40 x 30 cm
mm particles 6
2009
digital c-type print, 40 x 30 cm
mm quantum 1.2
2009
digital c-type print, 30 x 50 cm
mm quantum 1.4
2009
digital c-type print, 30 x 50 cm
mm quantum 1.11
2009
digital c-type print, 30 x 50 cm
mm quantum 2.10
2009
digital c-type print, 30 x 50 cm
mm quantum 2.11
2009
digital c-type print, 30 x 50 cm
mm quantum 2.12
2009
digital c-type print, 30 x 60 cm
negative future is where marilyn is, kept alive in images even though she is dead. it seems impossible to reduce her to pixels. the idea of creating a ‘composite’ marilyn monroe also seems redundant since each image is already a composite... which leaves the simple act of inverting an image in order to change it (uncover it) whilst leaving it whole

folded, compressed, flattened, unfolded, uncompressed, creased and still whole (the whole can be destroyed but cannot be divided)

… all the particles eventually come to rest, before they split apart again. all we can do is realign them, show their potential, by placing pieces in a grid. this is not an act of deconstruction – the idea of a grid, of dissection, is to place the particles in a rest state so that they can rebuild themselves…

the quantum is a negative: it is not what we are made of, it is not what you see when you magnify something a billion times. it is not real, nor is it a dream. but it is possible to feel it, in the space between the most certain of minimal beats, and in the flow of air you feel when you close a door to keep the heat in.

we can only describe it tangentially. it is like dissecting something, and then putting it back together again and seeing the impossibility of joining the pieces back perfectly. the truth is in here somewhere, in-between the joins.

in the space created by tearing a photograph, particles float outside of time

suspended
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