I’ve never felt the sensation of grief when referring to an exhibition, however coming off the back of the closure of my c3 show FUTILE Devices-throughout each stage of lock-down that’s exactly what I did. Grieve. It feels like a selfish act though, as people are sick, and dying. But it was comforting to focus on something small like this exhibition being entombed, rather than the dire state of the world. The show talks to my own relationships with machines and objects, how I try to understand them and the miscommunications between these two vessels. However, now I find myself struggling in the same sense, unable to turn on any of these machines... but instead struggling with my own inner monologue and internal motivations. I stare at the wall for hours on end, counting hairs on my arms and legs, unable to engage in any of my other hobbies or methods of passing time, for fear of guilt, or associating the strange feelings of grief that accompany. I collect objects and relics around my house, and whilst unable to create, I collect (collate) and control them. As a means of feeling empowered of my immediate surroundings, whilst also leaning into my own vulnerabilities.