JACK BANKS

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I am interested in the potential of form. Not simply as evidence of activity or place, but as an extrusion of a condition. This approach is centered around the inverted space of the Inbetween.  Where matter meets, a space beyond the real.  A space we do not access but might reveal.  These spaces pose questions about what is and is not seen and how it is we look. 

What comes about in the mind when we look?  A form has the potential to envelop the mind, to draw it onto a separate plane, at one but also apart from the physicality of our body.  I seek to inhabit this plane of intersection.  

 

We inhabit our bodies and build a logic around our minds.  A cohesive space to allow us to navigate through our work and culture.  But we define ourselves against our surroundings, as that which we are not.  In this we lose our interdependence.  Space solidifies and forms the barriers between our consciousness and the world around us.  

 

We are trapped here.  Again we seek the walls of this space.  We feel it out and place ourselves within it.  We build the barrier in our minds and this space becomes the real.   

 

Imagine oneself the size of a speck of dust.  You rest on your knees with your head to the ground on a vast and polished plane.  Still you are so small you are nestled within its grain of it's surface. Without looking you feel the limitlessness of this space and that you are part of it, stretching out further than one can know and you feel safe.  You belong here and you wish to stay.  

You try to understand your situation.  You see yourself curled on the ground and you go to grab it.  You feel the weight and the shadows of enormous fingers trying to pinch you from the ground and you grow frustrated that you cannot grip on yourself.  Your desire is to pick it up and inspect this condition.  You think if you can see the logic of this, as if counting the legs on a tiny spider, then perhaps you can stay there. You feel for it within this sense but it’s too small and slips from your grip.  As you grapple the feeling fades and now you're back, longing for that strange space where you're at once so tiny you could burrow between the fabric of space and all the while so big you cannot grasp it. 

  

As you grab at it, it slips away.  Perhaps it is better to fall between those cracks or try to stand to see the view. But I would always reach from a place within the walls of yourself. 

I’ve not been there since I were a child.  But this is the place I’m searching for.