Carry On
2024, resin cast of the artist’s skin, submerged photo printed on clear film,
6″ x 4″ x 3/4″ each
The word Carry On has a dual meaning - A baggage item that passengers are allowed to take into the airplane cabin and an action to continue and keep going. Both meanings carry weight for me, physically and emotionally. As a migrant going between two locations, the carry-on luggage is a familiar object that I interact with physically and also a phrase that I tell myself to comfort myself when going through the hardship of adapting to a second home in America.
Thinking about Deborah A. Mirand’s idea that the body is an archive, I am interested in how a body carries time and how those carriages mark their index on the body. I think about how the intangibility of time and language holds the body’s tangibility. Carry On (2024) is a series of photographs submerged in skin-textured clear resin with the photographic size, 4x6. These photographs are digital images that appear when the word Carry On is typed in to search in the artist’s mobile photo album that was created after she relocated to the US. From the screenshot of the airline’s luggage allowance policies to the artist’s grandmother’s handbag, the digital algorithm randomly searches the images that include the ambiguous visual interpretation of Carry On. Here, the term carry on becomes a broader term for a container that can hold something. These photos are embedded in resin blocks cast with the surface of the artist’s skin. The choice of the monochromatic palettes of the images is defined by the color of the artist’s skin, homaging Byron Kim’s Synecdoche series. Merging the index of time (photo) and the index of a body (skin cast), the body is a placeholder for the past moment to suspend. By curing these digital ephemera to a physical object, I ask, can the weight of time become heavier and thicker?