By the Grace of a Static Attraction with a Sleeve, 2016
With accompanying monoprint series on paper, various dimensions
The yellow February sun catches the hair I leave scattered and curled on his bed. Individual strands imprisoned at a micro-level by the cotton fibres of the under-sheet.
I know where they will go when the sheets are stripped and shaken out. They will be trodden into the carpet or taken on small journeys by the grace of some static attraction with a sleeve. They will be found in the mouth, ears, knotted in the washing machine. They will cling unnoticed to jumpers where they might reach up and tickle a chin. They will be caught on some unidentified sticky substance on the bottom of a shoe or between fingers, eyelashes, the pages of a book.
The yellow February sun catches the hair I leave scattered and curled on his bed. Individual strands imprisoned at a micro-level by the cotton fibres of the under-sheet.
I know where they will go when the sheets are stripped and shaken out. They will be trodden into the carpet or taken on small journeys by the grace of some static attraction with a sleeve. They will be found in the mouth, ears, knotted in the washing machine. They will cling unnoticed to jumpers where they might reach up and tickle a chin. They will be caught on some unidentified sticky substance on the bottom of a shoe or between fingers, eyelashes, the pages of a book.