Planting seeds in the gaps of consciousness

A disjointed letter to honestly reflect the disjointed week

Every thing is fragment. Not always. But this week they are. And I broke them down further.

I break them down. Smaller and smaller.

Pieces everywhere, can’t be captured at once. I spin my head to look into the kaleidoscope .

Left: I made up a game in which I build a house with shapes of unexpected things. Right: I made a pattern for a worm. It became a banana.

I broke thoughts into smaller denominators. I broke shapes into parts.

Snubs is made of parts. Snubs whole. Snubs is a part of my whole.

Left: me and snubs. Right: snubs looking at me

Then I made some patches. Patches made of off cut threads. Except the cat in the middle. I don’t know why.

Patches of Dogs and cats made of reused thread off cuts.

The two on the left need a bit more work. The hair of threads keep shifting and covering the embroidered eyes. I might need to change the type of dogs or change the method putting the eyes on.

But that’s what shifting parts do, they are never still, never dull.

Unevenly cut handmade udon type noodle looks like the dog I just made.

A caricature of sylvie in the colours of all the parts that makes her whole.

An a4 sheet, fold down the middle, tear, fold down the middle, tear.

Repeat until you can’t anymore.

And put them back together.

But you can’t quite.

Dust lost, space gained.

Now there are gaps to plant new seeds.

Who knows what will grow.

Your friend on the internet, marn