Linn Meyers spoke about her work at the American University Museum at the Katzen Art Center. Her work has a presence that is at once ephemeral and confusing to the senses. She makes her work with its demise in mind: when the show time is over all is wiped out with buckets of white paint, leaving nothing behind than its memory. Yet she likened that to a lot of permanent work that we may have seen once, and it struck a chord with us, but when we talk about it we do so from memory. I wonder though how the work might look different if there were no such temporary aspect to it; how does permanence affect what we make, because we all like to create things that extend beyond our limited lifetime. "A line represents passage of time" Linn Meyers is quoted in her catalogue, and maybe that is why her work can only be temporary: because it is entirely made up out of lines. Infinity seems suddenly tangibly close.
