Fall 2019 / In partnership with Nadia Cheng, Owen Melisek, Lauren Rueb and Eva Sabourin

There was smoke coming up in tendrils and a scent of dry earth. The thatch seemed to absorb the air around us, with the fragrant depth of the forest. Firelight flickered across the wooden rungs as I climbed down through the layers where they made their beds. And far below, something hidden. The silent, energetic movements of the Unseen Children.

In the walls I could sense the touch of their small hands, carving away over generations the raw sediments of the soil. They were like a force of nature, descended from a fractured world. An exploratory network of hollow volumes meandered softly through the earth around me. I wondered at their life, growing together through the earth. A process of searching, and learning.

I hurried down the ladder - the children were descending now, called down by an imperceptible summons. We came together in a space that held us like a giant egg, golden and emanating warmth. I looked into their masked faces and listened to their silent conversations. They spoke of their truth, the life they had carved together, their shared discoveries of their burrowed world. As the light traced flickering shadows across the softened walls, I saw these children as a spark of light in a vacant earth.