Temperamental

Saturn’s rings—an immense drift of ice and stone—appear as clean lines from afar, but this linearity is an illusion of distance. The raw Cassini images hum with lines—some sharp, some faint, some broken—mapping not form but force. This work began with Saturn, and with Cassini, but it has since slipped its orbit. Here, the line is no longer a tool of representation but a living presence. Drawn freehand in ink on thin layout paper, the lines shift as water, pigment, and paper collide. As the paper dries, it wrinkles, warps, and pulls the ink along with it. The original gestures are altered—expanded, distorted—by the very materials that hold them. Curves recur, the circle suggested but never complete. Each piece is formed from many sheets, their gridded edges multiplying lines of tension, rhythm, and rupture.