Abstract
If the earth was represented by an apple, the surface zone of life containing the largest plants and creatures down to the tiniest micro-organisms would be roughly equivalent to the thin skin of the apple (Knab). Considered in proportion to the size of the planet, this narrow surface zone called the biosphere, teeming with life, can indeed be imagined as a skin. In my work, I seek to occupy an ambiguous terrain that evokes the intimacy of human skin at the same time as it refers to the vastness of the earth's topography. Our skin, too, is a vast and varied topography, with its own abundant communities of microbes constituting ecosystems in their own right -- just as the regions of the earth host their own vast webs of life. In considering this metaphor, I explore the power of a shifting sense of scale, the geographical imagination, and the role of affect in my work. In one moment, the pieces may be viewed as skins suspended in space; in the next, they may be interpreted as portions of the earth's topography. Linking the two may enable us to regard each one with more empathy: for the fragility of our own humanity, as well as the vulnerability of this living planet as we know it, in an era of rapidly shifting balance. Both our own skin and the earth's biosphere are shaped by virtue of being alive, and by processes of time, growth, decay, weathering, and the wear and tear inflicted by their use. The marks of their history etch so deeply that each resembles a text or map that reveals the ruptures of time and the accretion of experience.