Glass is a wall, burned down to a fevered river, tempered by the air into cold contour. And when shattered, the site of rough prism. A new being. It is for the light to shine through, and the dark to bud against. Where the dark grows, a slow blur between line and boundary, between body and material. You are subterranean and mineral. We mirror. We coalesce. We split open.
Where light creates division, clarity of form, Dunham revels in the mutable, the integration of body to spatial conditions and the transits in between. To move through is an invitation into these unstable systems — an entry into the mercurial, the strange, and ultimately the revivable. Burns Blue holds space for these systems of exchange, transformation, regenerations at the site of trauma. A jolt of red and a sliver of blue. A controlled burn to bloom.
The body is an active contagion to these temporal forms, placed squarely within these exchanges. Existing in the peripheral of their violent history, we find these material works at the precipice of their next system and state. Chemical, corporeal. Here, suspended plates of glass offer microscopic views of splayed out regeneration. Light ciphers through a re-binding of congealed and cooling forms, and the splints of glassy fractures, sharp and fluid. The mending is projected in shadow-y billows throughout this medial realm, a resounding multiplicity of form in the wild amorphous.