At times it is difficult to reflect upon what has been made...at least to the point of revealing something one can only ever really feel... then attempt to articulate...I'm not familiar with this work as yet...so it remains the same for me as it does for you...in the thought that the only clue to the meaning exists within its title...the unresolved, reflective searching it implies....it has everything and nothing to do with the ocean...the box is bookish in structure...a thin volume of six pages..a narrative of both presence and absence... of opposites...one page is simply a veil...dark but transparent...damaged...there is also a sense of something out of reach...all of it contained...portable...a black page with a white thread forming a cross or 'X'...suggesting a mapping or surveying of surface...preparation...construction...a mirror image scratched into the surface of another dark page...perhaps the only hint of a reflection...of looking and discovering of self image...a boxed figure above a forest of wooden and metal shapes...although I am now familiar with their intended use I recognise them as I first encountered them...strange...curious sculptured figures...natural...even human...the box figure has an absent presence...the last page is at times veiled... a cut-out
figure...still...reflective..suspended...an inked shadow holding it to a metallic background...a small black and white photograph of the ocean....on the bottom white framed edge is written 'the ocean' in black ink...it is also suspended...floating on the edge...opaque...beneath the figure is a similar structure to what appears on the first page...a thin forest of hat pins...each one with a different coloured head...contained, portable language...reflective...deep as the oceans we search for in ourselves...even in the city... sp
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