 So, hi. So I'm going to talk about this piece. I have two pieces in the show, so I'm sort of between two of them. But this piece is bounty. This is the newest piece that I've done, sort of, this year. So this is a personal, large manifestation of it. It's a series of 30 slides. And they're actually based on a video, one second of video. These are salt fields in Bonilla, and salt's been a part of my work for a while now. I've been videotaping things that have to do with salt, so I do sort of video work with the sea, for instance. Images of trees, things that have been affected by salt. So this sort of sea salt is sort of symbolic of things that can occupy two spaces. So it corrodes and it also preserves depending on what it's in contact with. And so I like things to sort of have that sort of multiple positions. And so I found these hills in Bonilla. My island used to actually was colonized for producing salt. That's what the Dutch colonized it for. But we don't have any remnants, and so a lot of my work too is sort of trying to create this new archaeology for my island. And since salt was so key you can't fight it. I happened to go to Bonilla and saw an old photo of these salt piles, and I said, you know, how old is this picture? Do they still exist? And they're like, yeah, the entire southern tip of the island is a salt producing lake. And so I went and actually then documented this. And so a lot of my work has to do with time as well. Time-based video, sound, photography is also time-based. And so this is actually representative of one second. The whole series is actually seven seconds, so then it's 210 images. For those who know or don't know, one second of video is actually made up of 30 frames, where the individual frames of an image constitute one second. And so that's why this is technically one second, it's the 30. So if you were to look from the first image to the last image, it's actually a passage of time. Very little, each one is a 30th of a second. So that's sort of where the heart of the piece is. The salt, I guess it was sort of tongue-in-cheek when I first did it, because the previous piece to this that incorporated salt was an installation, a site-specific installation where I filled a gallery with six tons of rock salt and flooded the other half with like a 40 by 20 foot reflecting pool, with that reflected video. And so it was really sort of large and site-specific and just slightly over the top. And so I wanted to sort of come back, bring everything back again and sort of have it be this sort of more intimate experience, but filled with more salt, technically. There's more salt in this piece than there was in the installation. And so, yeah, I just wanted to sort of have these tiny images. I sort of played around with size, because the other photos are larger, 20 by 21 inches, and I've been working in that sort of large photographic scale. And then every time I print a large print, I look at it, and I see this little thumbnail that I printed out at one point on my computer, and I really like the intimacy of it. And so light is, you know, so that's the size, and light being key to sort of photography and, I don't know, seeing. I wanted them to sort of glow and have a presence. I really sort of, you know, find a little bit of influences visually, minimalist, really sort of, I like minimalist work. And I don't know if it's a response to growing up in the Caribbean where you're part of a boat, and there are lots of colors, and there's a lot of stuff going on. And so, even as a child, I sort of like playing in sort of quiet a moment. So I don't know if it's just me sort of reacting to coming out of that space. As much as I love kind of work, but, you know, I visually miss that, and sort of reduce colors. And that's also in response to sort of, you know, occupying a tropical space when you come out of a, you know, a country that's always associated with, you know, tourism and escape and exoticism. And everyone thinks about the colors, you know. When you show art, but then, especially photography being so loaded, you show those images, people immediately are like, oh, yeah, I need a vacation. Oh, it'd be great to go there. It's lovely. And so in stripping the colors, trying to strip that, also that baggage from the piece so that you sort of, the work can sort of exist, you know, even if it's just formatted for its form, sort of the sort of simple beauty of it, you know, removing all that sort of, you know, needed baggage from sort of that tropical space as well. And so, I don't know if we should walk over, but the other series is then sort of 16 large photos that are in the other room. And that's called the, and that's sort of like, I don't think that's my contemporary piece because it actually, a lot of my images sort of deal with that historical art effect, sort of recreation. And this is where we sort of, those images were crisp and very sort of now. And that work is also based on the fact that I travel. I travel so much between spaces. So it's, you know, it's about that negotiation of private and public space and documenting that. So the images are actually, some are taken in St. Martin, which is home, and some are taken in Buffalo, which was my home at the time. And then some of me, sort of as the person that has to navigate those two sort of cultural spaces and having to readjust every time I went into different parts. When I got to St. Martin, I talked too fast. Everybody was like, slow down. Why are you walking so fast? Why are you always on time? Like, you know, like meetings were started three. Let's go. And then, you know, after a summer, I come back here. And I feel like, oh, yeah, I get there sort of whenever. And so I have to sort of just readjust my clock. So it had to do with those kind of like quiet personal rituals and readjust them. So. But I said, oh, are you ready? Yeah. Yeah? Okay. All right. So I can talk to you shortly. You can get to talk to him, too. So why are we waiting on you? And do you have questions? I have a question. I do have a comment. I think what I find interesting about it is, it's this minimalistic structure that you add. Like, references are monumental. Like, environmental structure. I think of minimalistic, I think of it at least. It's a huge form of stripped down. But I thought that was interesting. So thank God for that. Yeah, the other question. I have a question, but it's related to how do you go back and forth between the video and the image? And it's still, I mean, how do you see the vision between those two? Do you separate them, though? Yes and no. I mean, the fact that these are all individual videos still that have been put onto 35 millimeter slides. I don't know, I sort of try to move fluidly between them because I sort of work with all these different types of media. Like, even the paintings. For me, it's sort of, what am I trying to say? What's the piece trying to say and how to try to say it? This is also, I've also shown this with video. That's why sort of they were backlit at the time because having to have the space dark and have this video projection, then they sort of created this line on the side to, you know, they needed to coexist with the darkness that you needed. And so I wanted to have them on different spaces. But I try to move between the two where I don't really necessarily see, yeah, there's no, I mean, what I end up shooting on video. I mean, visually they end up looking different sometimes. They're just two different sort of visual styles. But I think part of, you know, that whole idea of sort of having to specialize and sort of be fixed with one particular style is really sort of like, kind of a Western art way of like, okay, if you do photos, you have to do photos. And, you know, coming from a small island. So Martin's like 36 square miles. It's like Central Park, it's like different from my country. And so you have to do everything. You have to be able to do a little bit of everything. And so that whole idea of specializing, you just couldn't exist, you know. And so I guess they just sort of translated also into the practice and taken liberty that way.