Bodies click. Bodies swivel. Creep out. Or spill.

Wounds flicker, alight paleness. Register painless.

Did I breathe in another’s memories, mistaking them for my own?

Shored against silent stones. Amidst cobwebbed corners.

In between the warbled call of a nameless river. 

The mind is a glove that holds. Protects. Conceals.

Yesterday, I reached out and touched the soil inside my skin

and I blazed and I burned.

I. A whimsical caricature of myself. A some body.

Maybe I returned. 

Home is a cryptic poem

that no one comprehends.

Do bodies belong? Or does embodiment splinter a whole into irreparable fractures? Were we born dismembered? Are we destined to be incomprehensibly disfigured? Who – and what – deserves the dignity of being a body? Some body? No body? Every body? This exhibition attempts to read into bodies – human bodies, natural bodies, man-made bodies – to decrypt that fundamental question about what it means to be human and whether this sense of being is rooted in the material world. The earth emerges as a prot/antagonist in this story of self, a playground where we make play, chart meaning.

Artists

Manantuna Jyapoo, Anjila Manandhar, Shreeti Pradhan, Bunu Dhungana