Process is rich in imagination, in the moments before we know, we imagine, we question, and we lean into the possibility of being led somewhere new. Exploring the thresholds between making (in all of its forms), process becomes a living site of inquiry, tension, and the unfolding of discovery.
What lives in the space between making and showing—artifacts, residues and future beginnings?
What traces—visible or invisible—do you carry forward as part of your practice, and how do they shape the way you begin again?
Where do you feel pressure to arrive at something complete, and what might become if you allowed yourself to remain in the unresolved?
How does your process exist when no one is watching, and how does it change when it is seen and thus performed?