When the form does not quite take shape


These works originated from a movement based workshop led by Ayako  in which participants explored the “Art of being,” focusing on the “point of origin.” 

Throughout the session, I isolated specific movements such as lifting of my leg and rotating and shaking my ankle, whilst the rest of my body stayed still, pressed into the floor.

In this exercise, I focused on movement that did not feel “right,” noticing when I “needed to adjust” or it was “time to move on.” 

The cyanotype series “When the form does not quite take shape,” explores how these “knowings” come to be. 

Perhaps they may begin, not with knowing, but simply having a desire to know. From where do we develop a desire to know ourselves, to understand? 

As I continued my series of isolations, both on and across the floor, I noticed when I felt awkward, which movements felt unsteady, unbalanced - which needed support to sustain. “When the form does not quite take shape.” 

These movements paralleled a psychological feeling of when the subtle, intuitive “knowing what you need,” is not quite clear, acted on, or resolved in its entirety. When this happens, there lives an ease in the attempt, a sense of security in the willingness, the eagerness, to respond. A progression in movement occurs, allowing the next form to take hold. 

I again return to process in place of absolutes. In considering how one’s intuition forms, there is no guarantee in its accuracy, simply that it lives and pays attention, that the form is willing to respond.

August - October 2025

These works originated from a movement based workshop led by Ayako Kato in which participants explored the “Art of being,” focusing on the “point of origin.” 

Throughout the session, I isolated specific movements such as lifting of my leg and rotating and shaking my ankle, whilst the rest of my body stayed still, pressed into the floor.


In this exercise, I focused on movement that did not feel “right,” noticing when I “needed to adjust” or it was “time to move on.” 


The cyanotype series “When the form does not quite take shape,” explores how these “knowings” come to be. 


Perhaps they may begin, not with knowing, but simply having a desire to know. From where do we develop a desire to know ourselves, to understand? 


As I continued my series of isolations, both on and across the floor, I noticed when I felt awkward, which movements felt unsteady, unbalanced - which needed support to sustain. “When the form does not quite take shape.” 

These movements paralleled a psychological feeling of when the subtle, intuitive “knowing what you need,” is not quite clear, acted on, or resolved in its entirety. When this happens, there lives an ease in the attempt, a sense of security in the willingness, the eagerness, to respond. A progression in movement occurs, allowing the next form to take hold. 


I again return to process in place of absolutes. In considering how one’s intuition forms, there is no guarantee in its accuracy, simply that it lives and pays attention, that the form is willing to respond.