Eclipse (2018)

My great-great-grandmother brought into this world six pairs of twins. Only one child lived beyond his first year. My sisters are monozygotic twins, too - they were once one, a single egg that split into two by accident. They share the same genetic information, but they live apart from one another, as if a repulsive force pushes them in opposite directions. Could this echo the dispersion of celestial bodies formed from the same dust, the movement of light rays being bounced around the Universe, or the dissemination of sister-images taking shape from the same negative? Maybe the egg that splits, like other things that can multiply, is a way to trick time. One becomes many so that time can be experienced in a myriad of forms.

In ‘Eclipse’, photographs of my sisters taken in our home in Romania are joined together with pieces of film accidentally exposed to light during development.

Offprint, Tate Modern, London, 2018-19; Funzilla Fest, Rome, 2019

Self-published zine, edition of 20 (10 available)