Kristin Posehn

Thinking about Agnes Martin. At a glance her paintings appear to be so simple, yet they are somehow infused with her vision and inquiry in ways that elude description, always marveling.

New in the studio—a laser cut on holographic paper, based on my sculpture Ghost Pearls. Looks like I’ll be having a viewing event for the full-scale Ghost Pearls architectural sculpture as an open studio a bit later this year.

I mentioned to a friend the other day that the more I learn about dreams, the more it feels like I’ve barely scratched the surface. It’s been so fulfilling to write about them, in ways that I can’t describe. Maybe I haven’t had that in writing before, where I hit a vein that really gets to my core. Writing is changing my relationship to dreams, and vice-versa; I have a series of dreams about twitter going back a year, it’s like my dreams are very gradually and gently tweet-mentoring me. I continue to be surprised, and it only gets better.

Tuesday night I attempted to begin a short chat about my recent work at NFTuesday, but there was a problem with the projector and my work was rendered invisible, so it was postponed for another time. It was awkward but I can’t even pretend to know what the right order of things is anymore, it seems the universe had better ideas than me about timing. I’ve been a bit awkward in general over the past couple months, what with sharing more digital work and putting out essays and trying to figure out how to do all that, plus the rest of my plate, but it’s growing and I’m very, very grateful.

In conjunction with my exhibition Ghost Pearls at Granary Arts, UT, I’ve been releasing a series of fully digital studies that further expand ideas touched on within the show. The third and final work is Oolite.

Digital Study #8 (Oolite), 2023

This study encodes information found in a historic 1856 ledger, expressing and reimagining that data as a transparent glass sculpture.

The ledger was kept by the women-owned and operated Ephraim Relief Society. It recorded the amount of eggs donated by members to support the Society’s charitable activities in the community.

At the time, within the local community eggs were considered a cash equivalent, and could be freely exchanged for goods and services.

Oolite is a sedimentary rock composed of spherical grains; its name derives from the Ancient Greek word for egg.

Millions of years ago, oolite formed as microscopic debris were tossed by wind and waves across shallow areas of the Great Salt Lake, gradually accumulating layers of calcium carbonate, much like pearls.

Oolitic limestone is endemic in the region, and has been used as a building material for many historic structures, including Granary Arts, where this work has been hosted, supported, and shown.

This series has explored ways in which economic structures, purpose, and community can be linked; and forms by which voice can be transmitted across time.