A Body Leaves A Body
A glass of water can occupy a moment. A cave can occupy hundreds of millions of years. On the surface of a painting, these scales can become strangely close. What changes when the fleeting and the geological are held within the same field? Our sense of duration shifts, along with our sense of what it means for anything to remain.
Partosa’s own entry into this question begins with water. Her mother made sure she learned to swim almost as soon as she learned to walk. She remembers entering the cool, chlorine-scented blue as a kind of rebirth, a world too bright to remember clearly. The body extends, floats, adjusts to the pressure of another element. A moment gathers around these sensations, then dissolves as she lets it go.
Text excerpt: Ottilio Carantes
Download catalogue