Ata and To'o
Sitting back; away from the path, a shallow puddle of sand. One has knelt to touch the seeds of yellow, to trick the barren bead into flourishing, to grow a limb reaching to ‘the hostile emptiness of the sky 1’, a pillar upon which to stretch the writhing map, it’s four faces twisting, seeking a fissure between the stones, it’s body unwilling to be read, it’s paths leeched and branded into hide, it’s terrestrial form a medium through which to follow the high sky.
1 Dick, P. (1999). Do androids dream of electric sheep? 13th ed. London: Gollancz, p.16.
An installation of yellow sand and grey slate stone, a strange pocket of a barren landscape speckled with unknown instruments of navigation...
Here the ritual of navigation has changed, the Stone inscribed is stowed away, a map of fabric is unraveled and pinned in place, its faces contorting, unappeased with its use, it wished to remain in the damp hollow earth, away from unyielding light.