Friction generates a space between two sides, and that is where things actually happen: the waiting, the negotiation, the exchange. It doesn’t sit on the line, it grows out from it in both directions. That is what I call the threshold, and I am interested in how it gets made.

Frottage, drawing, painting and printmaking let a surface leave its mark straight onto fabric and paper. What comes back is never a copy. Repetition deepens some parts and wears others away, and once a structure is pressed it stops doing what it was built for: it no longer separates anything, it just holds a shape that can be worked again. The pattern sometimes refuses the edge of the canvas and continues onto the wall. The labour is not hidden.

I would rather inhabit the threshold than resolve it. It is where the conversation happens.