Excavation

I dug a hole in my studio. The impulse to excavate was both in relation to the mines, and symbolic of a digging. While questioning my interpretation of a biographical landscape, I also probed existential spaces. The need to extend further, to uncover more, was in contest with the reality of the architecture and the slow process of self-discovery. Like the hole, the studio too was excavated of it’s contents. A large magnifying loupe rested above the recess. To look in, you had to get down on your hands and knees, and place your eye close to the lens. Then the hole opened up, expansive through amplified vision. The illusion of the infinite. It was the outside and the inside, both.