The Weight of Distance
There is a peculiar vertigo that comes from looking down at the world we usually inhabit from a height that renders it silent. We spend our lives navigating the grit of the sidewalk, the specific texture of a brick wall, or the way a door handle…
The Weight of Hinge and Wood
A door is a promise of somewhere else, or perhaps a warning to stay where you are. We spend our lives moving through them, rarely noticing the grain of the timber or the way the iron has surrendered to the salt and the wind. Wood remembers…
The Weight of the Silhouette
There is a particular kind of silence that belongs to the bird. It does not need to speak to define the space it occupies. It sits, a dark ink-stain against the pale, indifferent sky, holding its own gravity. We spend our lives trying to fill…