In The Spirit Of The Place

Do you ever feel an ache? A kind of soreness that has always been present inside, but day to day you suppress it and continue? Inside the world of In the Spirit of the Place, there’s a pebbledash dreamhouse that I would like to shrink myself into and occupy. This structure has different-shaped recesses so you can have different frames of gazing out or looking in. There are glass plates with poems etched onto that I’d like to live within, and videos that hold stories within them that I would like to watch and maybe shed a few tears over. In this space that ache is acknowledged and embodied. This world is focused on the physicality of domesticity, and the internal ruminations that this physicality can shelter. How does the interior of our minds attach itself to the interiors of the places in which we reside? How do we repeat each day with an understanding that no matter what happens, whatever you accomplish or don’t accomplish, tomorrow will come and the day begins again? I long for the moments where I feel I’ve transcended the mundanity of time passing. Where I can see a narrative form from my past and speculate its future. Where past, future and present are one and the same. I think it’s in these moments that I feel whole. In the Spirit of the Place, presents to me as a time capsule of every day, past, present, and future happening all at once. One great mesmerizing smoosh, with layers of predications and reflections on wisdom and naïveté, melded into a whole. The inverse of a big bang? Through glass, concrete, pebbles, windows, words, movements, and song, the anodyne quality of ‘the day to day’ is embraced and elevated to create a heavenly hellscape. Written by Beau Lai