saying hello again

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MICA Decker Library
October 25–November 19, 2021

List of Works
Scans of Instax Square Photographs
Exhibition Images
Youtube Playlist (if you want to listen to something while looking at or thinking about this exhibit)

Saying hello again is a temporary display of books and instant photographs ruminating on memory, intimacy, and interpersonal relationships. Some of the books are from the Decker Library, while others are part of my collection. I curated Saying hello again because I was looking for connection—the kind of connection that is comfortable, expansive, and deeply personal. While on the phone with a close friend of mine about this feeling, they told me—you can’t make new old friends. Maybe these works create a path to circumvent that impossibility, or maybe they provide me with a different kind of connection altogether—one that supports me in my longing.

Each of these books is a collection unto itself, a dense world of personal ephemera, poetic mourning, or rebellious parables. They house photographs of windows with glowing orange lights, reflections on place, and dedications to family and friends. The writers and photographers invite us to join them, at our pace, opening and closing the covers at our leisure. Sometimes we leave a bookmark between two pages. In a way, these bookmarks are our way of saying—Don’t worry. We’ll be back soon. We just need a little break, or maybe we aren’t ready to see the end of you quite yet.

These books are also objects, each with a unique history. They are marked with birthday wishes, dog-eared corners, or notes from people we’ve loved. We take these books with us when we go on walks or meetup with friends. Sometimes we take them to bed, placing them on blankets or bedside tables. As we hold them—with one hand or two—they hold our hands in return. Some of the covers are worn or bent, while some of these books have been carefully guarded. We can feel the fragility of their pages and see the worn lines in their spines. These books can’t talk, but rather they ask us to speak their words for them. They become whole only when we open them.

I have chosen a photograph or two to accompany each book. My photographs are my diary. They help me remember my life and support my nostalgia. Like a friend or a part of me, my snapshots keep these books company. The books do the same in return. Together, they form a partial self-portrait, a momentary reflection.

From the Decker Library at the Maryland Institute College of Art