his was drawn on the back of an envelope. It’s the original idea I had for Collision, where my head was right at the beginning.
What I was trying to do was give people a sense of how it might feel when you step into the exhibition. What does it look like when you step into my world and Tara’s world?
It’s introspective, but there’s also something slightly playful about it. Not comedic exactly, but the idea that a person’s head dips through a wall and suddenly they’re looking into another world. Their arms go through one opening and come out somewhere else entirely. A foot disappears into one hole and reappears in another, in a different place, a different dimension.
It’s about that idea of slipping between spaces. Interdimensional, but not in a sci-fi way. More like how memory works. How feeling works. You put part of yourself somewhere and it ends up somewhere unexpected.
That’s what I’m trying to grasp. The work does this. It lets you dip into different worlds. Different memories. Different viewpoints. You’re not standing outside looking in, you’re partially inside, half here, half elsewhere.
And that links directly to my work and to Tara’s. It’s not about what you see being what you get. It’s about what’s underneath. What shifts when you really look.