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In 2021, I embarked on a long walk, circumnavigating the 130-mile perimeter of Oahu, predominantly on the shoulder of the Kamehameha Highway. This route, a perilous stretch between the land and the sea, unfolded as a space seemingly detached from both realms.  Progressing along the road was akin to navigating a history book of human colonization and development, with each building serving as a page in the island's narrative.

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Walking along the road resonated with my sense of invasiveness. Roads often serve as gateways for invasive species which frequently colonize edges. To my left, the mountains held remnants of earlier ecosystems and cultures, emblematic of a sense of belonging. On the right, the vast expanse of the ocean represented passage to and from everywhere else.

 

These images symbolize the places where we live in the tension between innocence and culpability, tragedy and beauty, light and dark, and the individual and collective experiences that define human colonization. The buildings standing alongside the highway emerge as tangible expressions of our occupation in an edge habitat and experience.

 

An edge is a convergence where seemingly opposing experiences coexist and hold truth simultaneously. In this realization, we understand that we are both land and sea, innocence and culpability and that we are navigating the road of modern existence and human history.