In the Hinterlands the stone cannot teach,
And if it did, it wouldn’t teach anything;
There one does not learn the stone, there the stone,
A birth stone, is buried within the soul.

[ João Cabral de Melo Neto, A educação pela pedra ]

How many stones make up our lives? How much sky makes up our ground? We imagine the immanence of the stone: that which it withholds, its impenetrable interiority, its invisible mutability, the material manifestation of the divine. We consider the sky’s transcendence: what the sky projects onto the imagination, the immaterial, the path beyond. Yet, there’s the transcendence of the stone: the stone that knows itself to be a stone, the throw. And the sky’s immanence: the crumbling utopia.

Through screen printing, fabrics, embroidery, found objects, and film...