I’m still feeling that low, steady sense of unease. Perhaps it’s all the months of lockdown and gallery closures, but I find myself thinking about art in particular ways. I’m sentimental about certain types of practice and drawn to works that remind me about the joys of introspection and the sort of daydreaming that occurs when one recalls absent events or experiences. Here art becomes a stand-in for the unconscious hum of memory.

I want to linger before these works and learn something from their installation that documentation cannot account for. Still, many ideas and qualities stir me from my laptop. There’s the desire to hold onto time and bring forth past intimacies; indeterminate spaces, thresholds, and material transformations; the unremarkable and the everyday writ large. These works speak directly to my senses through the agency of memory. They have ignited all kinds of reveries.