​​

"But there is more to the present than a series of snapshots. We are not merely sensitized film; we have feelings, a memory for information and an eidetic memory for the imagery of our own pasts. Our layered consciousness is a tiered track for an unmatched assortment of concentrically wound reels. Each one plays out for all of life its dazzle and blur of translucent shadow-pictures; each one hums at every moment its own secret melody in its own unique key. We tune in and out. But moments are not lost."  

-Annie Dillard

​

Touch is a quixotic resistance to immaterial images produced by increasingly invisible infrastructures. Ephemeral residues and provisional solutions–post-it notes, dried leaves, a cut extension cord, well-worn slippers, infinitely linked zip-ties, a cardboard shim, a swollen box–show all the marks of the hand that remade them in the permanence of steel, ossifying personal memory and freezing resinous pools of time in negative space. Viscous pine tar flickers as the recorded hum of an elevator resonates a fossilized cardboard box remade in steel. The infrastructural facade appears as fragments, pushed back; making room to foreground inner, psychological space. Absence of a body is felt, like a missing tooth. The gap is foreign so you keep obsessively tonguing it, trying to make sense of the unfamiliar void. Affect, feeling it first through the body, is a way of making meaning that can become suppressed under technology where the automacy of living in built systems supports the production of constructed realities.