My approach to this project was entirely driven by its theme. Without a fixed outcome in mind, allowing the work to naturally evolve in response to the concept of 'Parallel Worlds.' The theme felt inherently poetic, inspiring me to explore 2 distinct pathways, much like the intricate structure of a poem and the way one engages with its meaning. 

You could read the lines perceiving letters at face value of form

You could read between the lines perceiving letters as intricate constructs

I realised that to create work that truly responds to the living world, I needed to immerse myself fully in it. To live in its wildness, to carry its scent, to allow my microbiome become a part of it. I frequently wandered through forests and woods, spent a week camping in the wild with only a tarp sheet for shelter, cooking on fires lit with flints, and even drank from streams—though not all of those choices turned out well! My journey took me across borders, backpacking for thousands of miles and experiencing the vast diversity of life. Along the way, I gathered fragments of nature: tree bark, rocks, shells, sand, and seeds to name a few. Holding these objects,I found myself compelled to reflect—'What lies hidden beneath the surface? What complex structures exist unperceived within these pieces of the perceived natural world?'...

I stepped into the Micro and Macro world—the seen and the unseen. 

During my outings, I used my camera phone to document meaningful interactions with objects and materials I encountered. I created artworks using natural elements like brambles, chalk, and nettles, leaving these pieces in the very places where the materials had been gathered. As I mentioned earlier, I wasn’t entirely certain what the final result would be. Upon returning to my stable bricked home I observed one of my tree rubbings. It was the length of a hazel tree. I felt this resonated with the macro element. I asked 'How could I visualise the micro element of this?

I initially experimented with projecting images of objects collected under a microscope, but it felt uninspiring and disconnected. The essence of my outings had always been rooted in active, physical engagement—putting myself out there and extending a hand to connect with the world. I realised the viewer, too, needed to be an active participant. So, I set aside the microscope and replaced it with something simpler yet more interactive: a magnifying glass.

Micro: I reduced one of my woodland photographs to a size of just 5mm and printed it onto a large sheet of paper in the shape of a full stop. The choice of the full stop form was intentional—designed to echo the finality of a sentence coming to its definitive end. 

Macro: I enlarged the same photo to 2x2 metres again in the form of full stop.

Both images were suspended parallel to each other. The magnifying glass was positioned to the side of the work encouraging viewers to not only get closer to view the smaller image but to engage with it to perceive it. If we apply this principle to how we interact with the natural, living world we would certainly find something that compels us to look deeper and ultimately connect with it through learning and understanding.

(Note- An ode to Carl Sagan- A Pale Blue Dot)