I hold the hands as if they were her hands…The wooden mannequins seem awkward and clumsy, they constantly fall out of shape- they express their object-ness and other-bodied natures. Yet the spectral zone of this virtual touch transmits many others. I am working intimately with the hands of someone I have know for many years, as a stranger…
dance
24.06.20 stitchings
Awaiting more glove stock- there are many more contributions to stitch. Thank you to all those who are contributing- deep gratitude. Not sure where this is going, but I’m following it… ‘This beginning, like all beginnings, is always already threaded through with anticipation of where it is going but will never simply reach, and of a past that is yet to come.’ J. Barad. Quantum Entanglements and Hauntological relations. (2010)
20.06.20 stitching
It made me remember how often I cross my arms when I’m sitting, and stick my hands in pockets when I’m standing (and scuff my heels – another pair of trainers worn through recently)
18.06.20 left hand assembly
Inheritance, a procession of hands…always touching themselves, both through their own material constituents and through the other things that in turn give them touch. ‘We’ve all gone through times of every morning waking up scared…And yet, by the time I’d be standing in the middle of the room, I wouldn’t be scared anymore…It’s not surprising that the trouble I was having was showing itself in that movement of passage from sleep to wakefulness.’ Simone Forti. Handbook Read More
15.06.20 stitching
the hands are held in an envelope of touch from the gloves themselves. They bring an altered, enfolded sensation world to the joined hands. A tethered accompaniment to the arrangements of fingers and hands, they are self- binding and yet there is a micro motility from the stitches and the cotton material, that allows a kind of breathing. A motile world within a soft material skin, epidermis- exoskeleton.
12.06.20 my left hand
Practicing drawing the moving arrangements of my left hand…a refrain, watching a part of my self as other…a stranger on the end of my wrist. Barad’s notion of self-touching; touch touching itself, an infinitude of others