Brooke Johnson's Studio

Emerson is standing downriver in the fresh-water shallows, his mask hanging from one ear, fishing during the pandemic summer of 2020. He is used to the idea that he will or won’t catch a fish. But he is now uncertain of everything else.

Even in the wilds he is unaware of how to be safe from this invisible, seemingly omnipresent peril. Emerson’s lure has snagged a latex glove, onto which a tiny perch has latched. Lurking unnoticed under the lily pads is a pike with razor teeth.