I used to be a mountain

A series of ink works.

"I used to be a mountain"

I’ve spent most of my adult life in the mountains. These giant blocks of geological archives have been there before we came around. Most of them will be there after we’ve gone, but time also affects even the most robust of giants. Everything falls apart. Nothing is immune to the ever ongoing processs of entropy.

What was once a massive block of ancient seafloor, solidified by immense energy, then a moving slab of continent only to crumple up and rise to form a mountain. But after a long time entropy increased, wind and water started carving away, causing weakness and breaking down the giant bit-by-bit to finally, leave us with the result; A sculpture.

These drawings are a way to capture these pieces, using the most abundant destructive force available: sunlight.

Light, photons, as it interacts with the surface. The sunrays that bombard these rocks are the same rays enabling me to see them, but in order for me to draw their portraits I have to look at the unafected surfaces, the surfaces that are safe from the light, because drawing with black ink is drawing what I DON’T see. It’s drawing the invisible. The areas that are safe from the rays. If only just for that moment in time.

Currently hanging at 131A Gallery in Woodstock, Cape Town