|staring at the studio ceiling|
Studio morning so far.
Wasted time on facebook, drank coffee.
Stared at the ceiling for a while under the premise of stretching my neck.
Why I need a premise when I'm here alone is another story.
Now I turn to this:
|folds and stitches, in black|
I'm not really sure what it is.
Well it's a dress, and it's black.
But I've draped and carved it in a way I've never worked before,
using seams and pleats and paring it down from a large piece of fabric, just like I used to carve fish out of bars of Ivory Soap when I was a kid. It's spare, refined, minimalist, stark, mysterious. I like it.
It's almost done. I don't know yet if it works. It's scary and exciting, in the way that our work scares and excites us: everything is on the line. Nothing is on the line.