My Room Is a Sundial

2017

Archival inkjet prints, triptych, 50x60 cm each

On a warm October day, while basking in the morning light in my apartment, I held my iPhone between the sun and my naked body and snapped some photos.
In my diary, I wrote: To feel the sun heat on one’s bare skin is the most human, subtly luxurious feeling. And light is the soul of a space. You can call a place home once you’ve seen how the light changes throughout all the seasons.

I sat in the sun for a while and then, for some reason, thought of Moyra Davey, took Burn the Diaries out of a bookshelf, opened it on a random page, and read:
My south-facing apartment on the eleventh floor is both a sundial and a camera. Like the bus, it moves, albeit with planetary slowness, absorbing a sequence of solar rays that light up each room in turn. This is the season, late fall/early winter, when I wait and watch the light, trap it, and later observe its subtle shifts as the days begin to lengthen.
From Moyra Davey: Burn the Diaries

(Installation shot Adam Šakový)