Introduction
Dust is the liminal matter of our daily lives, a matter we attempt to hide or avoid, something that although we try, can never be wiped away. Unavoidable, it is a condition of our future and our past. As Genesis 3:19 states "for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return." We create dust because we are.
Dust is implicit in our bodies, movement and existence. We are constantly unconsciously shedding parts of ourselves creating both a physical and emotional past we do not want to recognize, which we try to brush away, yet is always with us. We leave a trail of personal physical matter which mixes in corners and on windowsills with others who have passed through our province. In its most banal form it is matter we do not want to recognize, like a part of ourselves we want to avoid. And in its essence it is a part of our actuality we prefer to leave unspoken.
For over a year I photographed the dust that had settled on my windowsills, contemplating its emotional corporality outside of the physicality.
From the microscopic parts to the plainly visible groups of dead skin, pollens, spores and space diamonds that make up these micro subtle hills and valleys to the immense dust rivers which transport the sands of the African desert to the east coast of the United States, these images reflect the idea that from the minutia of ourselves comes the vastness of our singular and collective existence.
