“All things are fluent; every image forms, wandering through change.” Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book XV, lines 165-169   The series Inner Lives / Previous Lives explores the relentless metamorphosis of landscapes as experienced through lived, fleeting, and troubling temporalities.   A landscape transforms. I’m sitting on the balcony; the sun begins to rise. It’s a morning not unlike so many others that came before it. Everything is bathed in sunlight; shadows appear on the walls, creating figures and oblique lines that are slowly effaced by the newly-formed clouds which obscure the sun. Birds are playing on the branches of the Jacaranda tree. The canopy faces me. With the first light of the morning comes an infinite sense of possibility. An opening within a frame. A window into a tear. Skin that wrinkles ahead of a tree that is there no longer. Thick yellow smoke that covers everything, and the asphyxiation that follows. Specks of dust so fickle that they infiltrate every gap. The outside world mirrors the fragmented self. A landscape is rocked. A moving image. An image that is gently pulled from its own reality in order to be assimilated into another body, a liquid body. The lifespan of an incarnated image. Nothing is left; everything is in transit. The metamorphosis of a landscape. Whatever has passed is an imprint that duplicates and conceals what was there before. To be the ephemeral repetition of a previous life.