I once had a conversation with my father about his first time living alone. He told me that, after moving into his first apartment, he and his brother were peeling linoleum off their new kitchen floor, in the hopes of finding a salvageable tiled floor underneath. While they didn’t find the floor they were hoping for, they did, to their intrigue, uncover something else - further deposits of linoleum floors underneath. He found that there were about three distinct layers, each appearing as though they could be analogous with various decades in 20th century décor.
Today, I’m straddled between my studio and apartment on a regular basis. I continue to feel an on going sensation of displacement while frequenting these two spaces. I inhabit both as temporary fixtures, (through contracts, if you will) in which I may superficially intervene, but may never leave behind a mark. Any attempts at permanently evidencing my existence into either space are inevitably met with erasure, my presence exorcized and discarded. I’m setting up a cross-pollination / symbiotic exchange between the two spaces, mapping one space onto another in a series of coinciding displacements.
HOME / ABOUT US / EXHIBITIONS / NEWSROOM / CONTACT US