Absence of Presence’ is a reaction of our own mortality and our intrinsic demand for proof of existence.
Each day, moments after waking, I photographed my bed just as it was.
I then photographed the duvet alone. The evidence of human interaction within the bed is contrasted with the sense of morning abandonment. In addition, the beds transitory state, altering daily represents regeneration.
Accompanying the beds, the enclosed duvets compress all elements of our presence into one curled form.
In our beds we dream, we plan; we think through our daily exertions. This process is embodied in the tousled sheets left behind, ready to be smoothed over and start anew. The bed is a unique environment where we seek solace, in times of both sadness and contentment. Although there is evidence of human interaction within the space, the emptiness encourages us to reminisce on our own experiences. Free from external interference, the bed and duvet become displaced objects, relying on their form and structure, thus allowing them to transfer from the representative to imaginative.