Directly referencing deep crust core drilling—the process of extracting long, cylindrical samples of rock from the depths of the Earth, allowing us to piece together the planet's history through sediment layers and traces of tectonic movement. 

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Through  All of The Horizons  we are confronted with physical representations of the geological strata which serve as a record of the passage of time. The composite sculptures, resembling geological cores, evoke the deep time of Earth's formation, while also standing at human eye-level. Temporal layering becomes a visual and tactile metaphor for how we understand our planet's ancient history. In our encounter with these pillars, how might we comprehend the possibility of a planetary memory shaped by natural forces that stretch over billions of years? 

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Meanwhile, the main figure in  Inertia Creeps  is descending an escalator with no hint of return to the surface. Behind the protective glass we can see traces of core drilling machinery, indicating the unnatural depths in which the scene takes place; an unsettling reflection of an oblivious society and the normalisation of extractive practices whose repercussions are far from clear. Named after the famous 1998 single by Massive Attack (featured in 'Mezzanine', their third and most successful album), the painting also re-contextualises what Robert del Naja has shared about the crumbling relationship which inspired him to write the song: It's about being in a situation but knowing you should be out of it but you're too fucking lazy or weak to leave.

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Raising critical questions about our motivations for digging deep into the Earth, the works juxtapose the quest to decode the mysteries of our planet's past (in the hope to understand its potential future) with the troubling contemporary reality of resource extraction for profit. Their sentiment is simple; as deep as we dig, we do so not for wisdom, but for oil. 

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