A.T.Day 1

The day after the opening of the show, I observed that the gate was open. Someone had gotten into the room and trampled on one of my pieces. The footprint was evident on the front of the embroidery. The irony was that it was the image of the pomp and ceremony that the police engage in for Independence day, (August 31st.)

This set me back for a moment as I looked around the quiet space and my eyes alighted on the guest book. The night before as I was leaving I placed the pen inside the book. Today the book lay flat, sans pen? Did someone decide that it was not necessary? Did the ‘owner’ come for ‘their’ pen?

The day was quiet and I worked on two pieces in silver that I intend for a show in London. A friend called to find out about the hours…10:30 to 3:30 until Friday. We were interrupted by a loud blaring on her side, the sound of loud speakers egging on the government of the day and an odd plaintive wailing of dogs as though sensing death. What an eerie moment

Later in the afternoon things picked up. One lady was very taken by what she was looking at and she said to me, what a sacrifice to take this energy on. It cannot be easy to sacrifice this way to show us these things.Did you work this small, make such small stitches to say that crime is to become smaller and smaller?

I found the comment unexpected and remembered my show in 2000, Hit! A visual documentation on domestic violence. Such an atmosphere seems to encourage tyes of introspection that go beyond the parroted exclamations that the newspaper headlines encourage. Somehow the gallery space makes one more mindful.