A PASSAGE THROUGH WHICH NO EXIT IS POSSIBLE
Katie Paine and Henry Law
March 2019
Kings Artist Run
It begins when eyes roll sluggishly in their sockets, a tightening of the abdomen, a stale, stifling fog that envelopes the limbs.
An intuitive sense of one’s body in space is no longer possible: wheeling backwards, tumbling sideways – involuntarily.
Stumble to the knees, retching. Movements cannot correspond with any navigation icons, like all correlation has been severed. No, not severed, tangled perhaps in a series of labyrinthine knots.
Time passes at a sluggish crawl and at a hissing speed simultaneously. Is the body progressing forwards, sideways, traversing any distance at all? It is impossible to tell now. Images, icons, vistas and objects whirl and spin past: does the body move? Or is it the static centre of some kind of frenzied hive?
At the End of a Passage from Which No Exit is Possible creates a narrative composition that explores temporality and the mutable nature of images.
