Discovered that I have a perverse fixation with his & hers stuff and all things couple/coupled.
1-3. Slow Prolapse I, 2025 & Slow Prolapse II, 2025
Blood agar substrate (infused with my boyfriend and I’s blood), mold and bacteria cultures swabbed from various bodily and domestic thresholds (my boyfriend and I’s mouths and anuses, the exterior perimeter of my home, the welcome mat outside his home, the contours of various doorframes, windowsills slowly becoming soft and rotten, his bed frame and mattress), hand towels, air vents, acrylic plastic, plywood
Photos taken day of opening. As the bacteria breaks down and metabolizes the red blood cells (hemolysis), the substrates will transform into a deep maroon-brownish colour. The appearance of the bacteria cultures will also change as they ingest the bodily contents (they’re not looking so pretty now 🙃)
4. Bloooooood (almost passed out after this session)
5-6. (W)hole, 2025
Custom-fabricated shower pans, mortar, porcelain tiles, stainless steel drains, collected household dust (sifted and mixed into grout)
Super grateful to be showing this new work in “I scrub myself until my skin is raw” at Xpace with @ohwuwuwu and @born_deleuze . The show is up until January 10th, alongside two other great exhibitions. Many thanks to @xpacecc and their amazing team for facilitating this show and for all their support throughout this exhibition. Also have to thank @_bog.dan for providing me with his blood (and bacteria) as well as his mom for facilitating safe and comfortable blood draws ❤️
Up next, introducing our Main Space exhibition for 𝓓𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶, 𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓲𝓻𝓮, 𝓓𝓮𝓼𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓻 opening on Friday, November 14, 2025 from 7pm–10pm ♥️
MAIN SPACE:
𝙄 𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙗 𝙢𝙮𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡 𝙢𝙮 𝙨𝙠𝙞𝙣 𝙞𝙨 𝙧𝙖𝙬 🧼
@Born_deleuze@Patrick.stochmal@ohwuwuwu
Essay by @20plusgnomehome
𝗦𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗱𝗮𝘆, 𝗡𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟭𝟱, 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟱–𝗦𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗱𝗮𝘆, 𝗝𝗮𝗻𝘂𝗮𝗿𝘆 𝟭𝟬, 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟲
𝘖𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘙𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯: Friday, November 14, 2025 from 7pm–10pm
The bathroom is a site of duplicity. It configures fantasies to be realized that, once undertaken, reveal barriers endemic to the flourishing of these fantasies. Desires of purity, care and sustenance drain into despair as promises of self-actualization go unfulfilled. Slick surfaces
illuminate dreams of attaining a subjectivity that can be made discernible to itself; a coherent self to be maintained and optimized. Structuring rhythms of consumption and loss, absorption and expulsion, tenderness and revulsion, the ostensibly private space of the bathroom unfurls as a site of ruptures, exposing hidden infrastructures of discipline and control complacent in the maintenance of everyday life.
Carrier Bag Collective presents the next exhibition in our KEEPSAKES summer series: (bodies swallowed but not digested) by @patrick.stochmal ! 🍃🪨 🦠
Patrick Stochmal’s foraged clay bricks commemorate his formative queer experiences while gesturing towards a speculative home. Secrets scrawled in now-shredded love letters, clay excavated from forest sites, pine needles fallen from a family tree, are molded into bricks in this recollection of trysts. Conceptually and literally unearthing hidden sites of intimacy, the work probes the liminal thresholds between life, death, and contamination.
Join us for the opening reception next Friday, July 26 from 7-10 pm @spacemaker2 or Sundays between July 28th - August 18th from 1-5 pm.
Spacemaker II is located at 100 Palmerston Ave in the back alley, please see our profile for a detailed map!
Thesis stuff pt. 2
1-4. “i love you (a provisional body, a provisional home)”
Vermicompost (Eisenia Fetida worms, weekly food scraps, my collected hair, nail clippings, bodily excretions and used tissues, leaf litter and dirt from sites of personal queer intimacies, a pair of my old underwear, love letters written to former lovers and the hidden sites of our intimate encounters, local newspaper articles and flyers from my hometown, dried flowers from my parents wedding bouquet), petri dish, nutrient agar substrate infused with my blood*, vermicompost bacteria culture, vermicompost tea, acrylic plastic, plywood
*my blood is mixed into the agar substrate before it solidifies, which is then streaked with swabs of the vermicompost
5. Wormie show and tell (spot the 🪱)
6. Mold appreciation (from “Next of Kin” after just over a week of incubation)
Some thesis werrrk from the past fall semester ft. personal explorations of my queer embodiment, more-than-human kinships and intimacies, death/annihilation/life/reproduction, states of toxicity and contamination, among other things :)
1-3. “Next of Kin (Will & Testament)”
Standard legal sized paper made from collected leaf litter and organic detritus, nutrient agar, microbes, mold, bacteria, acrylic plastic, plywood
Leaf litter and other organic material was collected from the ground of sites of intimate queer experiences within a small forested area behind my former high school. This biomass was then formed into a standard legal sized sheet of paper and partially submerged into an agar substrate, allowing bacteria and mold from the site, my body, my domestic space, etc. to randomly proliferate upon, inscribe and metabolize the paper.
4-5. “Till Death Do Us Part”
Face/body lotion made with hydrosol composed of distilled leaf litter, rotting logs, dirt, wild mold, saprophytic fungi and urine from the queer bodies of myself and my partner, as well as unidentified microbes (slowly culturing within the creams due to lack of preservative added)
6-7. “Eros”
Hydrosol composed of distilled leaf litter, rotting logs, dirt, wild mold, saprophytic fungi and urine from the queer bodies of myself and my partner
Instructions: lift the glass stopper and gently waft while inhaling to allow the scent into your body.
8. Distillation set-up for lotions/scent work for reference
9. Excerpt from Neel Ahuja’s “Intimate Atmospheres: Queer Theory in Times of Extinction” :)
A drop of my partner’s blood enters my eye. I am temporarily blinded; my eye lubricated yet irritated, my vision clouded and yellow. I try to keep his blood inside my eye for as long as possible before I eventually cry it out. I think about what it means to hold someone in this way, to hold their insides in this way, to both touch and see a part of their interior simultaneously. But I’m not just seeing his blood, in fact, his inside becomes an additional lens through which I perceive the outside. His inside shapes my outside, he becomes a part of me, he is me.
Recently I’ve been interested in the politics of contact and proximity and how one orients oneself in the context of relations to the body of the other. As a queer person, I’ve been thinking about a contact between queer bodies and about the potential for a disillusionment of boundaries generated through the contact of queer bodies. The queer body becomes a site of boundary disillusionment in and of itself in its resistance to maintaining the rigidly delineated structures of being that assert normative identity. I try to think through how the contact of queer bodies queers the body, and how furthermore, the body as site of embodied subjectivity can proliferate a queerness in being that re-orients the position of the human in the context of non-human matter.
As the drop of blood seeps out of my eye and runs down my face, I think about insides and outsides and the permeability of the boundary that borders the inside and the outside. I think about how I can dissolve the boundary between self and other. I think about the fleetingness of form and its processual becoming. Materially speaking, we exist obliquely; how our epistemological systems generate meaning that structures ourselves and the world does not necessarily speak to the radically queer onto-epistemic indeterminacy of matter. Electrons can exist as both waves and particles simultaneously (wave-particle duality); a subatomic particle that is integral to the world as we know it contains its own alterity and, in a way, exists queerly. How do I exist in my alterity? What does it mean to exist queerly, beyond sexuality; as a mode of being?
