(it continues) after it’s gone
collaborative exhibition with Anna Eden
Visual Bulk

a collaborative exhibition predicated on the inevitability of loss made from the material and emotional residue of two burned houses

Early this morning the house three doors down burned to the ground, killing the old man who lived there. Later in the morning, my friend called me to see if he could borrow my car to drive to the airport, because his grandfather was dying, and he needed to fly home. I tried to drive the car to him, but the police had blocked off the street and I could neither drive, nor walk out. Walking back to my house after talking to the police, I noticed the old man’s washing was still hanging on the line, although his house was gone.


as the space is disturbed, the loose sheets of tracing paper tremble against the willows, marking their surface.


the house resisted the burning.

the house resisted the burning 3 times.

the house went up at 9:23pm.

I think that is important.

It was also snowing.

dust and light:

time passes and nothing happens.

if the artwork wasn’t there, people might notice how the light catches the dust as a perfect illustration of time passing and nothing happening

but as the artwork created both the dust, and the light within which it is caught, perhaps it is necessary after all.

the burning:

(the catalyst)

before absence is presence.

and you cannot know one without first knowing the other.

everything else comes after this

casting ashes:

ashes cast


the day I started this drawing, it snowed outside and a woman died at the supermarket up the hill from here.

it snowed in the morning she died in the afternoon

my head still hurts from the night before

the drawing tracks an emotional state over a number of days, the marks changing between frailty and strength. the charcoal resists and acquiesces to the board in turn, dictating how it will sit.

the presence of these elements implies its own creation

I wonder how many charcoal fingerprints I will accidentally leave on the white walls of the gallery

ash falls from the board along with pieces of charcoal that chip off as the drawing progresses

I shouldn’t have worn this beige trench coat, but it made me feel like Ingrid Bergman walking here in the snow.