Impressions is made from medical exam table paper. Each sheet holds the trace of a body: its weight, where it presses, where it falls away. Some carry fragments of text. Others are blank. The sheets hang in a suspended row, slightly off the wall, allowing the viewer to move between them. The structure borrows from the exam room: repetition, spacing, standardization. The body moves through that structure, but does not fully conform to it.

This work emerges from my research into the history of American gynecology, though it does not attempt to illustrate that history directly, instead, attending to what is partial. Exam table paper is thin, disposable, and designed for single use. It holds contact briefly, then is replaced. The work sits within that tension between contact and erasure.