“Scarring the Earth” extends my ongoing practice of working with carbon as both wound and memory. A single charred trunk lies inside a ring of band saw blades, a minimal theatre where extraction is condensed into one arrested gesture. The vibration motor and Raspberry Pi make the blade tremble, translating invisible code into a low, bodily shiver. This micro-movement echoes earlier works where sound and vibration draw invisible forces on and through material. Here, the drawing happens in the viewer’s nervous system, an imprint of unease, complicity, and care.

The tree is no longer landscape but a witness, a blackened limb severed from a larger body. Placed within an almost ritual circle, the work asks whether our technologies can do more than repeat the cut, whether they might also help us listen to the slow, painful intelligence of damaged ground and to the futures still smouldering quietly inside it.