History is sedimented into rocks, through the exterior surfaces that show striation, to the interior bodies filled with gases trapped in time. Rocks are recordings; they are black boxes, databases, cameras, that trace our maniacal drive towards extinction. Geologists read gases trapped in rocks to unlock stories from the past, analyzing chemical properties to trace back to the beginning of western civilization, or rather, the beginning of our demise.
These images are visual constructions of what data might look like if they took tangible, physical forms of our everyday lives. I am curious what might be said about this moment on earth through found materials, like animal bones and plastic waste, pollution and decay. They strive to make visual the way capitalism has harmed the earth. This body of work contemplates the end of a settler colonialism that leaves us bare with the consumerist sublime of beauty and toxicity. Though filled with despair, these scenes also offer a playful critique of what once was, and a celebration of what can still be. These time capsules serve as surviving traces of our origins stories and contemporary concerns.