Sliding, slipping, never in one place, always moving.  Backwards and forwards. Never resting. But what lies in between? Between me and photography, between two skins touching or between us and nature.

I keep returning to a rather scientific description of a friend: “Human cells are grown in a tissue culture flask. The gap in the middle is a scratch wound in the tissue. During the process of healing the cells migrate towards each other in a very mysterious way as if they are connected by an invisible bond- Smallest signal molecules coordinate their movement and communication.“

Fibres growing through the materials like veins through the body. The inside collapses and the skin takes over what once used to be a body. Empty or full, that does not appear to matter. How can they touch each other again if they are no longer one? Is the old growing back together or will something new become? Making whole seems to be the most difficult task. Taking two separate things that used to be one. During the process of healing, the old is endured to create the new.

In the video Touch me – not I explored ideas around the body and its transformation through different states. It is always a becoming, a form forming form, from one point to the next, without end. The mass is flesh, but then something cannot just be flesh. A mass seems always solid, unbreakable. Bodies are liquid, flowing from one thought to the other: they are unstoppable in this, unstoppable.

“Orifices, pores and portals of all skins, scars, navels, blazon, pieces, and field body by body, place by place, entry by entry, exit by exit. A body is the topic of its every access, its ever here/there, its fort/da, its coming – and – going, swallowing – and spitting, breathing in/breathing out, displacing and closing.” ( Jean Luc Nancy, Corpus.)