I have crawled five and a half miles on my hands and knees through the Welsh uplands, my body covered in GoPros, gathering thousands of hours of footage from deep within the heather, rushes, and mosses. I have crawled across the desert from Mount Sinai to COP27 in Sharm el-Sheikh, and through the wet, windy streets of Glasgow for COP26, with potted trees on my back. I have walked from quarry to coast in Carrara, trailing my body weight in marble dust. And I lay in a 2ft self-dug ditch on a mountain top for 24 hours, vocalising the fluctuating temperature and moisture of the earth that surrounded me.
Currently, in the trilogy When Earth Speaks, When Seeds Speak and When Peat Speaks (2022–ongoing), I step into environmental scientific research to swim in the currents of live data streams. Not to make sense of it by finding its measures, values or patterns, but to simply immerse myself in the raw, illegible quantitative data as a material in and of itself.
The work is about getting ‘in’ – getting connected and entangled in material ecologies. It offers ways in to seeing, perceiving and knowing a place and its ecologies, more deeply. My post-minimalist practice, situated in the conceptual space between art & science, spans collaborative and solo performance, expanded drawing and sculpture.
In the current work, access to streams of digits offers me an endless supply of aesthetic and formal possibilities: one pin prick for every character, one punch hole for every digit, one rolled plasticine ball for every interval. The structures – sonified livestreams, tables, waveforms and spreadsheets – all provide rules and registers with which to play. Through registering every real and messy data point through intensive, durational and immersive processes, I witness and embody material ecologies.
I am interested in the invisible quantity, density and volume of data, as well as its ephemerality and fragility.
In The Boggy Gassy Clouds (2026), I pin-pricked 5,736 holes into each of the 31 sheets of Japanese paper, one prick for every character in a single day’s soil sensor dataset, to witness 31 days on the bog. In The Boggy Gassy Bubble (2026–ongoing), I write hundreds of thousands of sonified, live-streamed digits across the surface of a 3.5-metre inflatable white bubble.
Through my body, I render, store and archive time – over thousands of hours of counting, reciting and transcribing, I explore the intra-relations between humans, technology and the more-than-human world – one digit at a time.