A blur of lichens is inspired by lichens as symbiotic relationships between fungi, algae and bacteria, offering structures and vocabulary to support musical reciprocity. Each iteration emerges fresh from the moment of its creation.

A blur of lichens is dedicated to my late grandfather Frank, a conservationist who fell in love with the world of lichens at the age of 96. Almost blind, Frank would pore over images in library books with the help of bright lights, magnifying glasses, and giant spectacles. As the pages blurred, shifting in and out of focus, the humble lichens’ world of texture, colour, and pattern captivated my grandfather’s imagination.

Teasing apart this memory of my grandfather, I wonder about the blurring of other boundaries. How much of who I am is inherited from my grandfather? How does light transform into colour? What is it like to live as a lichen at the juncture of decomposition and composition? Where does rock end and sky begin? Where does my breath become the air that you breathe?