I've been playing with thread lately... all of a sudden I find it incredibly fascinating. While working on this little piece, I found myself thinking of all the things we are bound by, the things we tie to ourselves. And thread...all the threads of each day that must be kept in the right order, woven just so.
I cut notches into her neck and face, then slipped the thread through these spaces. I kept thinking of how painful such a thing would be, as I was wrapping the thread. But then, it is painful. There are moments when you pause at the sink, the taxi stand, your desk, and you acknowledge the ache where you've been cut, where you've been bound too tight by your own threads. The gaze, criscrossed with thread, affects me in a way that would be far easier to hammer into poetry than to explain here.
So as I said, I'm playing with thread these days. It feels, somehow, like a very indirect way of testing everyday tensions. At the very least, it's interesting, and that in itself is enough.
Will post progress as I work on the other pieces.