Edging (ongoing series), hand stitched textiles, sizes vary, 2019

Text below was written before, during and after the process of docu-stitching of past and new events.


When you walk against the crowd
but behind the people right in front of you.
No crossing over.
Parallel only, forwards only.
Edging only.
Independently rules apply themselves.
Physically satisfying the urgency daily.
Completely irresponsible for the outcome.
Cotton-picking dependence of it.
Only concerned about the
— not essential to make anything —
need to produce, produce.
Newest wrinkle.
Working class woman.
New mum.
Rummaging with hands for attention span.
Logging excluded thoughts and violated stories.
Positioning until the next moment right after.
Going over it again.
Going through it.
Been thereabouts.
Gone back.
Minuscule liberation.
A glimpse of something / someone in oneself.
Dependent on the one before this one.
Imperfections displayed jump in front of other
without informing any of it / self / other.
It leads the way.
It is the way it leads.
Every day it prosperily returns.
Must / have / be something.
Make it.
None of it is.
Perfectly laborious and relaxing.
Quiet murmur as the only thread for annoyance.
Discreet mind / hand / sweat performance.
When a house is painted in a colour up to a point
and the neighbour’s also follows the same height of paint
but in a different colour.
When you know your way around your kitchen
in the dark better than any other way.
When lost for words
of baby loss or news of suicide
make your way amongst others.
Flushing out the lost preplanned.

The edge of the white paint on a rural chapel building
ends roughly and randomly in nearby grass and rocks.
Street strikes make freely moving crowds
military / parade / ceremonial marching / zygiavimas
ordinary gestures in organized mania.

When you are in a rush to get home without umbrella
and a stranger tells you: it’s raining, get inside.