The current installation is a homage to the transitional space of Shiloh Temple. A building which has consistently remained a gathering space over years, changes in ownership and changes in the people surrounding the space. A synagogue, a church, a community center, abandoned, a space.

Windows very much boarded up until you want to feel the wind blow, and for the light to shine in. But boarded up again when you leave for the day or a week. Think the space would benefit from a little less damage from anything open windows may bring.

But boards off again when you want porcelain chimes to collide by push of the wind, and boards off when you want shattered pieces of stain glass to spin almost recklessly in the sunlight, and boards off when you want mulberry trees that are already everywhere to not shrivel up and die from lack of sun, and boards off because you want people to hear the rings, see the spinning, remember the trees.

But boarded up again when you leave for the day or a week. Think the space would benefit from a little less damage from anything open windows may bring.

Each piece within the installation is an acknowledgement of the almost, the once was, the will be and the what is now. From reforming evidence of the space’s neglect by inviting the invasion and recomposing the shattered, to welcoming breath of passage by resonating the push and signaling to something not necessarily better, but something acknowledged; something not abandoned, but something left behind.