Moving in waves above sandbanks and mountain chains, the weaver was first a dream dreamt by the matter of the universe. From the core of the earth she was connected with the world of concrete. Living many lives spinning her own and others dreams and weaving them into patterns she cares for. Where do they begin and where do they end? Entangled in the worlds of dreams and the world of concrete she breaks the granite loom in search for patterns of change.
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– If I said that I missed you, – If I said that I still thought of you smiling across the rug peering down shrouded corridors between feathers bird seed or prints in soil – it would be true. – – We always feel so different, our unfamiliar ropes fingers…
With my eyes closed… sensing. Stomach, heart and taste buds getting ready. The beginning of a smile in my hips, and the touch of the air on my lips anticipate the sweet taste of here and now.