Google docs and email exchanges are the foundations on which their project sits; it is the glue that binds the work together. A communal studio lives between their two computers, somewhere on a memory bank. Data is physical, there is a server that holds it all, reaffirming your existence it sits in a secret location in NSW. There is an archive of your life, your evolution, the rise and fall of friendships. The web carries your message to someone, they receive it, send something back, moored by the lines that connect as you read what the other has said.
There is an intimacy in digital space, in the reaching/leaning across to each other. Turn-taking and the overlapping of conversation. The leading and following and the give and take of reciprocal collaboration. A dance mat lies on the floor, mapping a relationship, materialising the digital space.
Closeness is both emotional and physical. Distance may seem lonely, but it is also an important ingredient for a well-rounded kinship. Distance is also embodied, as we each head home after meeting for a Monday morning coffee. The back and forth, like the game of paddocks, strengthens a link, both digitally and emotionally. With each new word, their shared data grows.