In the summer of 2024, while walking the shoreline at Half Moon Bay, the artist came upon the remains of a baleen whale. At first, it resembled the glacial rocks scattered along the coast. Closer inspection revealed its strange placement, the flies, flashes of pink flesh, and the unusual architecture of the baleen. 

The whale’s outer skin had already been stripped away. What remained was neither flesh nor skeleton, but something in between—a vessel still bearing the imprint of a vast and unknowable life. The encounter was haunting, yet held a strange dignity. 

Exuvia, from the Latin exuviae, meaning “things stripped from a body,” refers to the cast-off outer covering an animal leaves behind after molting. The work expands this definition to consider what remains after transformation: the husks, skins, vessels, and traces that outlive the bodies that formed them. Like the whale that washed ashore, they occupy the threshold between presence and departure, carrying the imprint of a life that has already moved on. 

Some encounters do not ask to be understood. They simply remain with us until, sometimes years later, they find another form. 

This work was created during a residency with the Lucas Artists Program at Montalvo Arts Center. 

Namita Paul