Suddenly living alone in New York City during
the pandemic lockdown, I found myself paying attention to the apartment I
inhabit and the signs of my presence in a space that never felt fully mine. I
looked at myself obsessively: colors and shapes, pores and textures, scars and
hair. I have always thought of my body by its parts: parts I like and don’t
like, parts I don’t think about. Over time, this project, a document of time
spent in isolation, also became an exploration of what gets revealed when you
have time to look with intention.