Private Residence, Chicago, IL
Touch is the unsung sense — the one that we depend on most and talk about least. Touch provides its own language of compassion, a language that is essential to what it means to be human. The science of touch convincingly suggests that we’re wired to — we need to — connect with other people on a basic physical level. And yet, we spend an increasing amount of time touching technological devices, specifically, screens.
We are human - we’re hairy, oily, messy. On the other hand, our devices are designed to be oleophobic, oil resistant and glabrous, smooth. In a sense, they deny what is best about us and they trick us into aspiring to the perfection of their design. This may be one of the reasons why we feel low and wiped out after using devices all day to get a myriad of tasks accomplished. We as humans are living and dying at the same time and so is much of the material world. But digital culture ignores that conflict and can tell us that there is something physically inferior about us - our oils, hair, tears, saliva - but I disagree. On one level, this project is an attempt to remind us that our humanity is beautiful.