rest on the surface without sinking
June 9 - July 2
Opening Reception: Friday, June 9, 2017 6-9pm
the ice in you melted not too long after the haze of your spritz died, the bubbles clinging to your glass casing rolled up and out and left. are you water again now?
Someone might not know you used to be changed, that for a little bit you were something other than what you are. I mean, you act no different than water now but you did for a while. your effervescence was temporary, it rest on the surface without sinking - I don’t think it changed you really.
But I do wonder sometimes: if I took you before the ice was gone, and before the bubbles were gone too – would your special state congeal? do you stay seltzer with me? – or, is that always a fleeting role you take on, sure to fade each time
is it about how I taste you, feel you, see you, all three together? –(1) or, will you just be, how you are, when you want ?
(1) Impersonating text from Virginia Woolf’s Orlando “He called her a melon, a pineapple, an olive tree, an emerald, and a fox in the snow all in the space of three seconds—he did not know whether he had heard her, tasted her, seen her, or all three together.”
text by kate kolberg
Katrina Cervoni is a photographer currently living and working in Toronto. Hovering between impulsive and deliberate, Katrina's work focuses on peculiarities surrounding the notion of beauty.