Light passing through glass and water leaves drawings on whatever surface catches it — filigree, halos, blooms of brightness that exist only as long as the light does. We don’t usually look at them; they’re a byproduct. This series asks what happens when the byproduct becomes the subject.
Each image is a collaboration between an object and the light it bends. Wine glasses, decanters, vases — vessels that are, for everyday purposes, almost invisible — become projectors. The patterns they throw take over the frame; the objects themselves recede into silhouette, or disappear entirely. Cut sheets of saturated paper interrupt the field, asserting flat planes of color against the radiant geometry.
The work continues a thread I’ve been pulling on for years: the moments and forms we look past. Here the unnoticed thing is light itself — its architecture, its handwriting, its quiet performances on surfaces we’ve stopped seeing.