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An interface is where two systems meet, the point of interaction, two entities separate but connected by a line. Perhaps this interface runs along a diagonal, joining, a structure to hold up the in-between. Leaning against the slope, these bodies hold information: a mouth to an ear, an eye to an eye. Our conversation is stored in a data bank somewhere off the coast of Sydney, in an unassuming location behind a chickenwire fence. The conversation morphs and adapts– permanent but short lived– it can come and go as we move through space. Data banks act as embassies, with which we are in cahoots, as we lean against the algorithm that runs diagonal North–East. It’s a linear equation; the x & y axes divide the river. It’s something we don’t notice until we do, parlay, answer back
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I wish to acknowledges the Wurundjeri people of the Kulin Nation as the traditional custodians of the land on which I work & live. I recognise that sovereignty was never ceded. I live and work upon on stolen land. |