Umbra2018Gliding through calculations, a hand moves a cursor determining the inside and outsides of boundaries. Bodies get cropped to perceive movement. Separated and segmented, analysed and labeled. Movements are fragmented, slowed down, paused.
As an index finger clicks a mouse, back muscles tighten, straightening a spine, elbows lean at the edges of a desk, a neck cranes a head forward, zooming into a previously unseen detail.
All the while algorithms attempt to encode movement, fingers tap on keys accepting or denying changes. Waves of light become analysed, compared to fixed parameters, further narrowed by sliders and monitored through progress bars. Encoding attempts to slow thoughts,` to fragment down to units, compartmentalise, contain.
Our systems are boundary creating devices.
Under its own power, a body rolls itself in cold water. Rotations resurface fragments. Arms and legs, a neck, a torso, a hand are glimpsed above or just below surface. Cropped in buoyancy, viscous borders breakdown, reform and breakdown again, one after another.
Ripples move outwardly, waves emanate from the contours of a moving body. Complex, unpredictable micro-movements caused by the push and pull of momentary borders. Moving contours of a body emanate waves which slowly abstract the further away in space and time they travel.
Crests travel, peaks of wavelets catch light, and millions of reflections cause a shimmering surfaces to be revealed. In turn, surfaces project movements onto everything in its path. Surfaces become embodied, mixing with the flesh of the world, dappled in light and shadows. Shining darkness, unprogrammable.
In gaps, liquids confuse the borders we assumed solid, muddling limits of visibility. Fluid filled gaps sit between the bones of a finger, between the vertebras of a spine. Seemingly solid structures used to stand to gravity or an index fingers used to press against the button of a mouse.
In fluid filled gaps, images find each other and we find them, Memory becomes a mixed and composite substance of different liquids.
Gaps allow for perception of movement, without gaps images are continuous blurs. Layers of data, one after another, burnt onto screens. As much as movement needs gaps, so does memory, imperceivable moments in fluidity that allow bodies to rotate. Gaps are spaces where distinctions between environment and subject can’t be drawn, where we enfold from all sides, removing inner and outer boundaries.
Plunged into liquid.
The more immersed into a gap we are, the more known forms fade from sight Nothingness folds over, not absence, but the plenitude of openness, space for possibilities. We speak through horizons and warmth, through the ground that holds our postures. We face one another as condensations of earth, light, air, and warmth
However in the glow of a screen, bodies might become each other, rotating fragments form as our own. Past horizons, with new warmth where skins pass through each other, light, and memory as new wholes, transfer. Cuts don’t want to sit still. It’s no coincidence that both liquids and ghosts prefer to move through transitory spaces, to move through the hallways, doorways, stairwells, shafts, air ducts, of buildings and archives. Through veins, arteries, and organs, fibre optic cables, servers, copper wires. Currents, streams, and flows.
In conduits, boundaries between solids are blurred, internal and external borders diffract, transparent layers shift one in front of the other, foregrounds between viewer and viewed collapse. Skins and boundaries become pass-throughs, past forms creating orienting lines on skins. Orientation lines to momentarily find familiar thresholds to face our rotating bodies towards, before again being washed away through ebbs and flows.
Glass fibres are ideal for transmitting data, light waves internally refract through the hairlike strands. Glass is amorphous, a non-crystalline structure in a constant transitional state, as transitional as the data that now flows through it. A periphery that is no where, a centre that is everywhere. Strands refer to shorelines, a fibre, the stalk of a plant, strands are the nerves in spines, connective lines. nodes for information, rather than boundaries. They too are pass-throughs, connective tissues that form new wholes from rotating fragments, binding and attaching, connecting over and around boundary making via photons of data. I am a conduit, a flow through of information and movement, entangled with past and present rotations. Linked, coupled and bound to unseen
Entanglement is when two or more photons or electrons produced from the same source are separated. As one spins, no matter where in space the other finds itself, it too spins in exactly the same manner. They are bound, reacting as if one, over distance, over oceans. Invisible conduits, that for the life of us, we don’t not understand. We only grasp the affect they have on the world. Recent research into non-locality suggests that photons are not only entangled over space but also over time. Entanglements let us feel each other beyond seemingly physical links, conduits are unseen, deep in the very fabric of what all matter is. The ultimate liquid gap is all around us, all matter in various states of spin. Fragmenting over, displacing, being pulled into new wholes that travels and responding to each other at the speed of light. Pasts fold into the now, and even radically still, they displace the here and now into the there and then, unmooring our place in time in space and in memory.
As images move, liquid gaps are filled with our liquid bodies. A loss of the self in the gaps of others, so that gaps of a self widen and edges become distant, rhythms become unrecognisable and boundaries quiver. Bodies and environments begin to encode new languages onto each other, where new composite forms embed themselves as unintentional re-touchings, unfamiliar spaces of indeterminacy transform and morph. Here, we’re both in and out of depth, entangled in the now, where bodies reciprocally affect one and other, pulling together fragments. Images appear from behind screens, from immaterial underworlds, did you come via photograph, through spin, or travel through conduits? Shadows begin to listen, applying the same encoding of understanding, back onto us, onto our surfaces, our textures and boundaries. A new self is both here, there and everywhere, outside and inside, passing dreams, shadows that listen and speak, neither dead nor alive, but existing as both at once, existing in an indeterminable third state of a Super Position
Photons also exist in Super Positions. A Super Position is a removal from the boundary of duality, a removal from the on or off, from the dead or alive, from the present or absent. A super position is the very real state of being dead and alive at the same time. Of being both object and liminal space, being that very gap of freedom. Super Positions exist all around us, from the bodies that spin, entangled in fluid movements, to the light that moves through pass-throughs.
In a super position, moments alter the very moment we observe, change or attempt to quantify them, they answer binary questions through revealing a fragment, a momentary glimpse before disappearing once again beneath surfaces we always assumed were solid.