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The under and through and up.

The piercing to mend.

Slow time



Passed on and by hand


My grandmother taught me. 

I think of her in a chair

By the open window

The TV on

The sea and the street parallel threads outside.

This memory is one of my homes.

I have her thread with me.

And a small patch of liberty fabric as a needlecase. 

Sharp needles


We have been stitching the word FOREVER onto disposable material. The word in a contradictory state – on material that might never biodegrade (plastic), or will (paper) .

Our body action is to discard these things: plastic and paper that encloses our food or holds our drink and plates our pizza, that wipes up after us. That frames and packages our lives into meaning and convenience. 

When do we say “Forever?”

What is the fabric of place and time?

We have also been leaving it for the public. Live art. Art drops. Interventions. Quiet, slow questioning. Private musings made public.  You can touch it and pick it up. 

You can take it home

Or ….

The material:

Loo paper, plastic glad-wrap, tissues, plastic bags, paper plates, plastic cups

We even tried it on food ( a meringue).  The plastic wrap is beautiful spread on a window.  It can hold one in a little spell. 

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