Thinking Of You.

From Juxtapoz Magazine:
Featuring over 100 combined photographic prints and sculptural works, Thinking Of You is one of the largest and most intricate exhibitions the artist Jason Jaworski has ever created. Spreading the work out across two large scale installations, a video piece projected onto glass, an interactive digital artist app and a collection of artist books, the show emphasizes the layers of meaning in the artist’s work, specifically his career-long mediation and incorporation of time, memory, chance and distance.

Moving beyond the pages of the artist books for which he is renowned, Jaworski incorporates seemingly disparate bodies of work into two powerful, deeply connected installations, evoking the lush and the barren while simultaneously exploring and threading themes into a multitude of provocative questions related to a deeply entrenched longing which is common throughout all his work.

Below is a statement from the artist:
A small screen in front of me flickers the distance and direction of Mecca.
I adjust my seat, no longer sure what my own distance is from the surface of the earth anymore; it seems like I’ve been hovering above the planet the past few days longer than I’ve been on its actual surface. Looking out the window, clouds merge and move by slowly, resembling different animals and objects floating by like cotton caught in some wind.
I stare at nothing for a moment and start to think of her, to think of you.
I think of all the people sleeping and sitting on planes around the world at any given time: a floating city or suburb blowing by with different disparate towns and villages, each with their own separate set of wings.
Her image flashes in front of me again.
The plane eventually lands and I walk off, wandering into a city I’ve never been before, whose language I grasp as well as the amount of people I know here: none at all.
I think of her again; I think of you and everything that spurred this incessant need to run and wander. To collect different contents of each continent I’ve wandered through, captured on silver or sensors and laid out here now.
At times it feels like I’m recreating an image of someone or something that I have yet to see, and each shard of memory, each sliver of a moment captured is just another torn piece of some vast unseen face or place I’m trying to reassemble. Someone and something I’m simultaneously trying to see for myself and to reveal to others.
I close my eyes and think of all those shards from that Sedona snow a year ago dwindling down like different zirconia glinting in the moonlight with mountains like mounds of paper pushed together with tall tufts of cloud moving through a setting sun-
And I can still see everything and everyone I left.
Those streets moving by slowly at a walker’s pace, less than a mile or so in front of me and nearly a thousand behind.
How everything is in a constant state of leaving and my own simultaneous longing for the past will pass me, just as the present, and just like those thoughts I had of her and the thoughts I had thinking of you.