Cyanotype Prints on hand coated mulberry paper.

Slip cast stoneware houses.

One of the most important means of orienting ourselves is through the horizon line. A landscape without a horizon line becomes something strange; a perspective that flattens the depth and distance that define a landscape. Looking at space from below or above dislocates us from our grounded home. These cyanotype prints were made looking up at the sky while standing on the Eastern Continental Divide. In A Momentary Territory, the ever changing sky above contrasts with the permanency of the earth below. If I had made these photographs moments before or after they would be different and yet I never moved. The circle becomes an unnatural boundary, a way of circumscribing a new territory that only exists in the image. We must assume we are floating above the houses to make sense of their diminutive size. Caught between the earth and the sky, perspective shifts and we see the world anew.