Negative spaces don’t exist; there is only space.
And every space is occupied, even if it’s by emptiness.
“Robert took areas of dark human consent and made them into art. He worked without apology, investing the homosexual with grandeur, masculinity, and enviable mobility. Without affectation, he created a presence that was wholly male without sacrificing feminine grace.”
He was unapologetic; he made a claim on his space and his lucid self knew better to avoid the negative space, a place where fillers and inconsequences (p)reside.
It is your shadows that solidifies your presence. Wave at it, acknowledge it in kind.
With your hesitant consent, gravity of the negative space gave way to the shadows that cushion your weight. A weight I wish clothes lessened as a shadow instead of a negative space.
I work and apologize for it, seemingly too often.
Apologize for the inconvenience. Apologize for the mess my art-making creates. Apologize for taking up space. Apologize for being distracting. Apologize for my frivolity.
Apologize for being angry at always performing an apology.
In this staging of criteria for negatives and positives, my lens apologetically creates spaces relative to bodies, for the times for the times you were made to believe you belonged in the negative space.
Spaces exist in relation.