Image

The image is a transporter, etching out what little substance we have and projecting us through space over time. The woman with the golden lingerie is not continuous; she’s made of space — occasionally populated by tiny masses with orbiting, interacting force fields. While gold can be hammered until it is translucent, her brassiere is made of fibers spun with metallic scintillants. The warps are made from mercerized wood pulp with a high wet modulus that’s been loaded with ochre pigments and mica flake. The weft is made from semi-aromatic polyamide condensation copolymer chains that have been dipped aniline yellow. The photographer shot her in emulsive grain, screens dissolved her into AM or PM dots, the plate picked up ink wherever it wasn’t wet and the press put her back together as it kissed paper in C, M, Y and K. Subjects and objects are all broken, fields of divisible particles that we have learned to see as individuals, immutable and noble. The vibrations of reassembly are seduction.