''I don't want my work to ask anything of the viewer. I want it to offer a moment where nothing is asked at all — a pause, like watching clouds move, or noticing the wind through tall grass. Nothing to solve, nothing to understand. Just noticing. And maybe, for a moment, a return to the place we so easily forget: the present''

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More and more of our lives are becoming intangible. Our conversations, our memories, our work, our relationships.

 

Things that once passed through our hands now pass through screens. As the world grows faster and smoother, I find myself pulled the other way: back to material, back to touch with the human hand.

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Art-isan work 

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My work begins without a canvas. Loose fibres, laid down by hand, layer upon layer. My ingredients are wool, water, pressure, movement and time. Slowly the fibres connect and only on this gradual basis through repetition and touch does the work become art.

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That matters to me, because the hand leaves something behind. Not a fingerprint exactly, but rather a quite evidence of time spen with attention. Of me, (a Tangible Human) having been there.

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The Tangible Human isn't about wool. Wool is simply the medium for something larger, the question of what stays distinctly human as the world grows more intangible: touch, presence, imperfection, material, time. The hand. The body. The ability to stand in front of something real and feel something, without needing to explain why.

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I think we'll come to value these things more and more. Maybe the objects we choose to keep close will become reminders: that we are here, in a body, in a physical world, for a finite stretch of time.

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The Tangible Human is an exploration of what it means to stay human in a world we can increasingly experience without ever touching it.

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Yours, 

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Dena Mojah