Following the contours of my body an archive an assembly of history’s traces left in me. The impression is hazy ill defined. The act of tracing is precarious … Using what little is known the tools at my disposal a cloudy tongue the fuzzy logic of Google’s algorithm Gradually unearthing a picture my ancestor’s movements […]
SORRY FOR BEING GRUMPY Standing alone in Te Puno O Waiwhetū (Christchurch Art Gallery), I snapped this detail from Marie Shannon’s work and sent it somebody (text accompaniment: ‘NOW THAT’S WHAT I CALL: art’). It was meant to be a kind of witty apology – stealing someone else’s words to make light of the kind […]