Solid is a love letter to not knowing. I like photos, and things, and photos of things, and this is the result. I chose the Turkish map fold format that blooms and expands, like the object on the cover that spawned so many search results within. The unknown (to me) object was one of many in a carousel of products in an online ad theoretically tailored to my tastes. A Google search for visually similar images brought more hilarity than clarity. I was told the original object was most likely a Solid, which was incredibly unhelpful. And how exactly is it like a spatula or a guitar, a dog bone or a measuring spoon?
Tangible objects are materially substantial. They possess dimensionality that clues us in to their purpose; we instinctively measure them against ourselves. An object at human scale sparks something relatable, whereas something larger has the potential to be monolith and inspire fear or awe.
The more we interact with objects, the greater our knowledge about their use and place in the world and our existence relative to them. And yet, the red object appeared as a shape on a screen. Lacking context about size, weight, or purpose, the image retains mystery and teaches me nothing.
The fact that the object remains inscrutable, to me and the machine, makes me happy. I can still make space for notknowingness, a liminal state that programmers are trying to eliminate. Three-color Riso zine, 5 1/4” folded, edition of 40.