We look before we see. It looks as if it were light as air; as if sweet breath plumped it up. When we look for longer, we can see that it changes shape, leaves a mark and grows ever heavier on the arm that wears it. Made of ice, it is not just cold, butContinue reading “Looking for life in a sea of loss: on Jasmine Te Hira’s Lost Content (2013) and The Beauty of Invisible Grief (2016)”
