projects
Embraced by two limitless cosmos, the liminal being is never fully apart, nor truly together - always, however, intrinsically entangled.
THE UNSTEADY NOW 2023
LONGING 2021-
TRANSITS 2021-
NOSTOS 2021
the unsteady now 2023
The Unsteady Now brought together the work of ten Cornwall based artists known collectively as ‘Dreysa’. The group have a wide range of practices, working across a range of media to explore diverse themes from pertinently contemporary perspectives. Whether untangling aspects of politics, environment, science and religion, or articulating concepts of place and the self, each artist operated with an awareness that in these times the ground on which we stand is inherently unstable: ideas must be challenged, histories unravelled and normality redefined.
The exhibition extended out from the Penwith Gallery, with a four-day installation at St Nicholas Chapel, on the Island, and a presentation of print work on show at Porthmeor studios from 2nd to 18th March, which then toured to Ocean Studios in Plymouth.
Dreysa was formed as the result of a nine-month period of conversation, networking and creative exploration facilitated by Field Notes and made possible by Cultivator as part of their programme of Graduate Support, supported by the European Regional Development Fund, HM Government, Arts Council England and Cornwall Council.
Some body is not nearby 2023
Mixed media, rubber latex
Four-day installation at St Nicholas Chapel, St Ives, as part of The Unsteady Now collective showcase
A Passenger’s Lullaby
Please Havoc,
come to me.
Make me scared,
make me weak.
Please Havoc,
come to me.
Across the hills I seek
desire, I’ve never dared to think.
So I drink,
so I shrink.
Please Havoc,
come to me.
Make me wobble
to the mountain peak,
alone with the bottle.
Please Havoc,
come to me.
Up the mountain peak.
All along, it was mine to beat.
Please Havoc,
come to me.
Make me foolish,
make me bleak.
At the summit the solace that I wish for
points ferociously to my heartbeat.
It’s a race.
An attempt to erase
a trace of arbitrary disgrace.
Please Havoc,
come to me.
Take my hand.
Show me anchored bars
so I can hold myself straight.
Familiar scars in the distant land.
I long to abdicate.
Please Havoc,
Let’s collaborate.
Please Havoc,
come to me.
Make me strong
to prove me wrong.
The dark box that I never get to see
forbids any of its misshapen lids.
It requires a cure for that itch
as a remedy to my twitch.
Please Havoc,
let me in.
Make me brave,
I crave not to be safe.
So far reckless and blind
I deceived myself and found
the fulcrum to be taboo.
Swallowed it whole, I’ve never chewed.
Please Havoc,
let me in.
A dawn chorus of comforting spasms,
a hand on a hip
sting for addressing a chasm,
the heavy knot, its tight grip.
Please Havoc,
let me in.
Never again
Never again
I will burn bridges in vain.
I will give others disdain.
Please Havoc,
at least let me come to you.
With open arms
Let’s enjoy the view.
The undertow will bring us back ashore
when embraced with the rising stars.
And shame for us will be no more.
Hail Havoc,
I kneel before you.
For the dreams that come true
and those horrors that do too.
For any turn you make
its opposite will chase.
You wonder why
You wonder if
anything I’ve done was fit
or would I have been better off to quit.
Thank you Havoc,
for my heartburn.
A passage and a point of no return.
We were separated amid tears of beauty and terror,
perhaps just an error
or the fate in which I say I am.
Thank you Havoc,
for being here,
and my horizon for never being near.
Thank you Havoc,
for not being here too.
If I only knew
I am just passing through.
A presence brings lightness,
an absence bears weight.
In their pull, far and timeless
out of your chaos,
Havoc, let’s generate.
Longing:
a la distansa e tuti i so amis 2023
To distance and all its friends.
A four-day residency at Jupiter Gallery in the heart of Newlyn, as part of one of the final events of Faye Dobinson's The Jupiter Project.
ẋ About a growing full stop that writes as we speak.
ẋ About a pregnant belly --------------------- and an umbilical cord.
ẋ A lifeline and its weight.
ẋ A slipknot that covers 299,792,458 m/s
lone, erratic pilgrims 2022
Mixed media installation as part of Delineations, final Degree show, BA (hons) Drawing, Falmouth University
Nobody is ever fully prepared to say farewell.
You may rehearse it until it sounds just about right. And yet, when the time comes, a knot begins to tighten in your throat, birthed in your stomach. This is the crucial moment in which doubt introduces a feasible silence, a trembling of intentions. You know those first steps away demand to be yours to take, and so be it. The journey that is endured is a solitary affair, starred by many arrivals and departures. The bindle of memories is mutually carried - it grows as you proceed.
When tracing routes in unknown territories, one has the tendency to search for comfort in familiar patterns. Yet this only digs a gradually deeper trench, hopelessly harder to overcome. Journeys, as such, are meant to be reconfigured. One encounters dead ends: mountains that are far too steep, lakes, seas and rivers too turbulent to be crossed, yet there is hope to emerge wholly from getting lost.
longing: an ongoing gravimetric study of distance 2021 -
(3 of 1500km)
" A lone walker is both present and detached from the world around, more than a audience but less than a participant. Walking assuages or legitimizes this alienation: one is mildly disconnected because one is walking, not because one is incapable of connecting. "
_Rebecca Solnit_
-
![]()
0.1 of 1500 km
crocheted yarn
L 0.1 km, C 0.33 m, D 0.1 m, W 159 g
-
![]()
1 of 1500 km
crocheted yarn
L 1 km, C 0.78 m, D 0.24 m, W 1.638 kg
-
![]()
2 of 1500 km
crocheted yarn
L 2 km, C 0.95 m, D 0.29 m, W 3.133 kg
-
![]()
3 of 1500 km
crocheted yarn
L 3 km, C 1.05 m, D 0.32 m, W 5.014 kg
Longing explores the weight of distance and its tangible vitality, testing my resilience as a life-long commitment embodied in form. The work represents the line connecting my two homes—defying borders and nationalities. It holds a paradox: both an act of love and labor and a seemingly futile attempt to bridge the gap between myself and distant people and places.
Rooted in concepts of quantum entanglement and networks across time and space, Longing questions how we perceive distance. While quantum theory suggests that “empty” space is permeated by dark matter, dissolving spatial separation, our senses still interpret distance as a real boundary. By framing entanglements as the distance between opposing entities, I search for that moment when two parts can meet in the middle.
The crocheted string, crafted from a simple chain stitch, is intended to reach back to my roots. This line becomes a metaphor for walking and journeying, set against the act of creating and winding the thread. Both embody a rhythm of repetition, ritual, and contemplative immersion, where each stitch and step draws me closer to a sense of home.
transits 2021 -
The dung beetle photo album.
Dear you,
I am taking you for a walk and a drive today. You measure 2 km and yet here you are already demanding more, hungry for thought, for stories, for beginnings, and ends. I could stand up, then you would no longer be rocking forwards and backwards as I feed you more thread. You would be balancing on my left hip in a breathing oscillation - up, down, up, down. My stance is so awkward. I see traits of a mother whose posture bears the passage of another lump - once straight, then with a slight tilt, a juncus swept permanently by the touch of the wind. As the alter being, you are shaping me. Neither a decorative nor a functional entity, you can't be placed down to collect only dust, nor be worn as armour. Shyness is an attribute that I cannot label you with anymore; your increasing presence interrogates my ownership, my intention. It takes my breath away, it shakes me like a leaf, but I don't fall. I just freeze. A baby becoming rebellious in its upbringing, a reminder of the clock ticking relentlessly. Are you sceptical of my diligence? Would I ever leave you behind?
-
![]()
Turin airport
100 m groviglio
-
![]()
Turin airport
100 m groviglio
-
![]()
Turin airport
100 m groviglio
-
![]()
Penzance promenade
2 km groviglio
-
![]()
Penzance taxi pick up point
2 km groviglio
-
![]()
Penzance train station
2 km groviglio
-
![]()
Breage bus stop
2 km groviglio
-
![]()
Falmouth train station
2 km groviglio
-
![]()
Falmouth train station
2 km groviglio
This work embodies an action realized within a specific space. The sequence of images documents Longing’s growth—a chronicle of a performative act paused for a short pilgrimage. Each image marks a kilometer traveled, creating a visual record that grows as the work continues to move. Like a child’s photo series capturing physical changes over time, these images trace an evolving form.
This ongoing series questions the imposition of human traits onto inner processes. As a fleeting synthesis of constant becoming, the orb remains self-contained while expanding inwardly. It forms a fictional void—open to being filled with one’s own stories, doubts, and musings. Through this, it invites viewers to project themselves within its contours, adding personal narratives to its form.
Transits within Longing carry an alienating sense of being in-between—of arrivals and farewells, of existing in perpetual motion. This movement blurs the sense of place, belonging, and the pursuit of something elusive, perhaps something beyond reach. By holding this tension, the series captures the longing for connection amid displacement, creating a contemplative space within each image.
nostos: homecoming 2021
in collaboration with Jack McIvor Video, 6.35 m
Edited from a three-hour performance, this video captures the repetitive gestures involved in creating a segment of Longing. Inspired by Bas Jan Ader’s 1975 work In Search of the Miraculous, Nostos embodies my journey home. The title, drawn from a theme in Greek mythology, translates to "homecoming" and delves into the urge to return to one’s roots—a resilience to endure farewells and seek answers in the unknown, infused with hope of finding the way back.
The video speculates on the possibility of traveling without movement, portraying a tension between the desire to be both away and nearby. This sense of travel unfolds through a re-enactment of past memories and erratic daydreams, blurring presence and absence. Within the imagery, I’ve embedded subtle calculations for Longing’s dimensions, approaching distance through methodical measurements that, when applied, would reveal the immense scale of the work.
If fully realized, this spherical entanglement would span a 3.2-meter diameter and weigh 2.5 tonnes. The string, if unraveled, would stretch 1500 kilometers—a vast expanse connecting points unknown. Holding both ends of this string, I wonder: could we feel each other’s pull across the distance?