What the Water Does

Liminality is soft. It is malleable, compliant, fluid, and supple. It is a place in-between what is and what will be, questioning traditions and creating space for transformation. Water is like that. Yielding. It is soft enough to trickle into in-between spaces and strong enough to smooth the edges of a shard of glass.

A studio is also like that. In mine I create works that exist somewhere in between piecework and painting. Yesterday I was eating a grapefruit and tacked the peel on the wall next to a finished piece. I was humbled by its beauty and awkward elegance. On the wall the peel hardened, transforming into something almost foreign. Taken out of context, I noticed more.