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…
mannequin
05.05.20 stitching
homecoming like minded soul son lover twin been apart where did we go? we hold tingle pulsate and part looking, really looking across the room open windows and wait in silence watch the billowing curtains we brush as we make coffee and again hold as we sit across the table me and me meeting like no other