What’s pushed out
the door comes back through the window
What’s pushed out the door comes back through the window
adhesive vinyl on Plexiglas and mirror, approx. 5 × 5 feet
Window 5 (Artspace Building), Winnipeg, MB
The words that make up this sentence are more or less what I remember reading in an essay by Charles Fourier years ago. Fourier was an early 19th-century inventor of phalansteries, theorist of utopias, and coiner of the word feminism. Whatever is repressed, oppressed, or forcibly excluded from a given situation or milieu, finds its way back in through other routes. Wildness eventually comes back to proliferate, through lapses linguae, ticks and stutters, through the decay of architecture, through steam released, through revolutionary eruptions. The rapacious serving up of our land, lakes, rivers, and oceans to corporate profit spells disaster. The vinyl from the text is an oil derivative. It is made up of ethylene (found in crude oil) and chlorine (found in common salt). Here the material is used to represent images of how this very material backfires on itself, off-gassing on the underside of vinyl-cut words, a kind of unconscious reversal, the underside of concept—colourful matter and crude leftovers, mining for matter, and its wrathful revenge. We will one day be found enfolded in a foot of filth, named the Anthropocene.