Manzanilla, 2024
Oil on linen
Opening July 10th, 2025
PROXYCO Gallery, 88 Eldridge Street, New York, NY 10002
17:59 marks a threshold. A moment suspended between what has passed and what is yet to emerge. It is the trace of a time that urges us to cross—through a portal, into elsewhere. A border. A limit. The edge.
That crossing can be delicate—razor-thin—or sudden, a violent shift. Yet every passage holds a quiet aspiration: the possibility of meaning, not in meaning itself. To give oneself over to transition, even when it unfolds through imagination, desire, dream, or the fevered disorientation of hallucination. Language, like time, becomes unstable at the threshold. Words lose precision; meaning shifts or loops back. Estrangements are not exceptions but part of the terrain. In this space, clarity is slippery. Navigation happens through fragments, approximations, and the residue of experience.
In 17:59, painting becomes both a map and measure of this temporal and linguistic in-betweenness. It accumulates like time itself: in layers, in opacities, becoming the sediment of an internal landscape. Each surface becomes a record of passage—a slow journey on foot. Not a destination, but a transit. A crossing of thresholds, of imagined contours and unseen borders. In 17:59, painting is a portal into the not-yet-lived, the dreamt, the remembered, and the forgotten.