years ago, I arrived to this city after 23 years in the desert.
Although one can easily become disoriented in a desert, Walter
Benjamin, who was an urban dweller to the holes in his shoes,
wrote that it is difficult to get lost in a city. But there are
so many ways to get lost! North felt like I was facing South,
East seemed to be where West should be.
after photographing the amazing forest that grows in midst of
this city, I began to walk the streets, which naturally brought
me to looking at windows, surfaces seen through even while reflecting
the world around them, a bricolage of substance and illusion.
Unlike mirrors, they are not portals, or occasions for narcissism,
but present possibilities for reorganizing one's seeing into
various dimensions and depths.
photographing one reflection, I showed it to a friend, who
found it “confusing.” Thus, I decided to gather
photographs as “Confusations”—a neologism
I parsed into: “confiscation” (“taking a
picture”), “sensation,” (as in Debord’s
spectacle), and “fuse” (how the brain fuses memories
to mediate a world). A
picture within a picture, they ‘sat
however briefly they stayed, they became part of the place
for ever. In Yolngu terms, they turned into the place. Whatever
events happened at the place, whatever sequence they occurred
in, whatever intervals existed between them, all becomes subordinate
to their representation in space as
a world within itself. [image