Whilst creating my first 'Feeding Signs' project, I became obsessed with the patterns of feeding signs on plants; quiet marks left behind as insects feed on leaves. These intricate patterns of holes, tunnels, and skeletal veins become a visual record of presence, survival, and interdependence. Rather than seeing them as signs of loss, I approach them as evidence of an ongoing dialogue between plants and insects, where consumption is also transformation.
The leaves I observe bear the history of countless small encounters. Each mark is a collaboration between species, shaped by instinct, adaptation, and time. In a culture that tends to celebrate pristine surfaces while erasing signs of decay or use, these insect-made patterns challenge ideas of control and ownership. They remind us that landscapes are shared spaces, continually shaped by relationships beyond the human perspective.
Close up, we can see how the plant tissue itself is altered by being eaten, in the holes, scarring and cellular change that occurs through the surface of the leaf. Channels and corridors track the feeding pattern of leaf mining flies and moth larvae through the tissue; forensic trails so distinct that they can be identified to individual species and further help us to understand what is happening in our expansive ecosystems.
