I read a novel, where the female protagonist asks: “Were hands by nature more honest than heads?”1
To find out I crocheted, knitted, made numerous tracings into carbon paper, tore fabric and placed threads, one at a time. Using my hands in these repetitive activities allowed my mind to relax. I forgot about ideas and lost sight of the outcome and focused on process alone.
Over time, I saw that this making was about time itself. Not in the usual way of either wanting more time, or mourning its passing, but rather where time and being merged.
The works that have grown out of this inquiry are, in the words of Antony Gormley, “reflexive instruments rather than representational narrative….about being rather than doing.”2
1 Jenny Erpenbeck, ‘The End of Days’
2 Gay Watson, ‘Attention: Beyond Mindfulness’
(Click on images to enlarge)