Between form and non-form. Between the subtleties of transparent and opaque, edges and dissolution. The unoccupied space of these almost manifesting forms is still. Contemplative. A respite for reverie, for engagement and an interval for awareness and presence.

The physicality of the surface draws the viewers eye from one stitch to the other. The patch worked canvas stitching the viewers gaze from one form to the next. In parts of the painting negative space becomes as positive as the manifesting forms poured and layered on the canvas. The scale of the painting envelops the viewer, is this a door way for which I wish to enter, can I see past the layers of the painting before me? Or, am I met with a wall to which I occupy its corner? I, the interior to its exterior. The manifested forms before me, sit on the brink of formation, on the threshold of transformation. A stage of process, a borderland in conflict.

What am I?

I am open to change, determination and interpretation. Awaiting my viewer to occupy and solve, however, I am infinitely paused. My vertical and uprising forms mirror you. Tower and face you. Echoing your breath, your thoughts and self like the imaginary partitions of the uprising room around you, when in internal thought or the corner you dwell for shelter. I am rooted, and your own verticality is affirmed. My membrane draws you in, its opens me up but I can easily reflect you away. Playing with you, I place you in a temporary flux.

I am in control, or at least I was. I absorbed and transfixed my maker. Birthed slow, I occupied time. I hovered and rested waiting evaporation. The active pools and puddles which are considered and flood my surface, I play with and tease. The dilutions spread and bleed over me, my pours begin to absorb and my treated surfaces resist. I lay and stare, my body manipulated, turned, distorted and patrolled. As I lay, a player to this game, I await my uprising. Parallel to the y-axis of my viewer. But for now? I dwell, I gather, I nest.



By the impending idea.


Writing Workshop .2. 

April Jackson