Narratives are linear. They begin, they end. No narrative. Narratives are thoughtful. Gently prying at the point, trying to resolve, or teach, or evoke emotional reactions. Narratives consist of congruent pieces that make a whole, they are tangible, whether fictitious or not. The End. No narrative. No symbols. Symbols aid narrative. They reference and visually describe. They point in directions, motioning to ‘STOP’, insisting to ‘GO’, conveying truths, or beliefs. No symbols. Symbols converse with us, they have authority and free us of postulation. Colours are symbols. Crimson red precipitates fear or love (often simultaneously), butter-yellow assumes calm, indigo purple deems luxury.

Groombridge’s work prides itself on precision. A rigorous attention to detail saturated by vivid colour, a carved edge, and exact calculation. The tangibility of his work relies on these truths, the conversation becoming bound to the existence of them. The material specificity remains, the decisions absolute, however he relieves the work of significant predetermined assumptions, it’s been decided for us: No narrative. No symbols.

The only substantiated truth is that you can place them in the palm of your hand and feel weight.

They exist, liberated. Light is rigid, asterisks grow in fields, the world is black and white.