Ceramic sculptures, found wood, silk, light installation, 2023
In some understandings of space, matter exists and is present until it takes on new form. Thus, a gate is a gate until it is a pile of rusted bars; a room, a room until it is torn down and the pieces are carted away.
But what of transitory spaces within the borders of a single locale? They shift with the light, weather, or hour. The daylit morning of your bedroom, strewn with sunbeams, is not the same as the one circled by the warm, golden haze of lamplight, when the walls are made softer by the heaviness of night. These possibilities exist within finite time, and can only be experienced when conditions align.
As you pause before a door or stand at the entrance of a garden, there are a myriad of possible spaces that could present themselves as you step over the threshold, all the more precious for their impermanence.