I return to the unraveling of edges—fringe as both a starting and ending point. I am on the inside making my way out, speaking through cloth. My voice is absorbed in a garment—a body with its own pulse, shaped by hand and machine. I begin in the middle, between parts gathered and parts dispersed.
Doubled
The remnant (present) has one side, a partial outline, a semi-ghost, an expanding gap between the remnant pile (past) and my body (future). An inverse of a trace, half of which is gone, the discard remains on site. This dress and its body are elsewhere.
