Braille is written language for blind people, in which characters, or cells, are represented by configurations of six raised dots felt with the fingertip. The individual dots, called cells, become compositional patterns similar to constellations spreading out in space.

Delving into the essence of the system, where everything is pared down to subtle dots, I think of what it is like to possess perfect vision, yet the junction of one’s philosophies and ideologies creates impairment. When we can’t see beyond our own ideas, we accept them as sufficient. What if we were to shift, even slightly?  Might a glimmer recalibrate our optics, our perceptions?

The Braille work is bas-relief, and when light catches that little lip of the surface, it creates a shadow effect.  On a very basic level, it reminds me of early hieroglyphics.  This brings the original concept full circle – language as image.