CRS1

Silk and cotton embroidery on linen, 30 cm L, 2022

CRS - Cosmic Reproductive Systems

On the threshold, in December 2021, in conversations about what was going on, the immediate mundaneness, almost habituality in mentioning the nuclear war was striking to me. As if the Berlin Wall was standing still, and all was going “just fine.”

Then in January I spent a month in Germany with some flaccid thoughts about what will happen if the air space will be restricted. On my return to the States I wanted very much to make something with my hands, but apart from stitching the book of Ecclesiastes nothing worthwhile came to mind.

I remembered my old sketch book from 2012. There had to be a black figure inked on a red background, maybe its time has come? I couldn’t find this drawing, maybe I dreamt it up. But there were others, drawn at a time a little desperate for me, after a science fiction of no less desperately poor quality which I consoled myself with. The only justification for this text was that hopelessness and sorrow were felt in it, and the vulgar fantasy was precisely a desperate escape.

There were descriptions of interstellar travels where the body, space and time merged and transformed into something other, flowing and spreading in folds. This other was good, it was so desperately different. This was what revealed itself on paper and also soft whirling spindles spinning life forms diverse without end, constrained by nothing and constraining no one. They are what I stitch.