A letter signifies a sound. Letters together, words, indicate singular ideas. Combine the words, they signify everything. Breaking down language as an attempt to learn it loses meaning. I've noticed that isolating pieces of language from each other cannot stop the mind's restless search for content. Marks within marks contain minuscule traces, like dust from a crime scene. No sterilization of place or archive erases every trace of a story.
This series recontextualizes ten year-old learning artifacts I discovered. Beyond the intended purpose of documenting reading, the subtle changes of background, voice, and silence layer an accidental archive. We too learn to read; we search out the quiet indexicality unique to this event. By the conclusion, we notice ourselves constructing complicated narratives from the traces of a past life, much more than just pronunciation practice..
Watch: Every Contact Leaves a Trace