deciding that I am my own knot and you are very much so your own
separate knot, but we meet in the middle of a mossy, freshly dyed
clump of yarn and we will spend many nights sitting on the kitchen floor
untangling ourselves and it will take me many years to realize that
none of this is a “bad thing” – not the unknotting, not the knitting,
not the separation of string itself – but all a part of a single skein that
unravels here -Olivia Jenkins
Amidst the safety precautions of the COVID-19 pandemic, I have been reflecting on the dynamics of my relationships. For safety, I am physically separated from my family and friends and pushed closer to those in my “pod”.
Untangle is a photo book consisting of black and white photographs of my roommate Olivia and I. Within these images, we perform an awkward dance as limbs intertwine, and we attempt to mimic each other’s actions. The intertwining celebrates physical touch and closeness in a socially distanced world and represents the bodily comfort within our relationship.
I have observed mimicry as a constant in my relationships as the “highest form of flattery”. The book opens with one of Olivia’s poems that speaks to this awkward mirroring, comparing our lives to two separate knots from one ball of yarn, both independent from and dependent on one another.
The sequence of photographs is interrupted by a smaller booklet of still life photographs featuring items from the apartment that Olivia and I share. Two coffee mugs, two blankets, two sets of keys, and other pairs of domestic objects. These photographs celebrate our home as the safest place during a pandemic and provide context into our relationship.