I'm coming, I'm coming
Freehand machine embroidery on water soluble fabric / sculpted epoxy resin
1,109 kg
16 X 2,6 X 22,4 gr
All the threads were black. I don't know what happened, but when exposed to direct light, some of the threads on the surface look like algae or filaments of something deep inside.
When I took the photograph of this work in the water it was morning and I was crouching with one foot in the mud, it was the only way I could take the photograph. It had rained all night and the moisture was seeping under my fingernails. A lady and a dog appeared while I was thinking about how pointless what I was doing was. At first I pretended to be doing something vaguely normal, but I gave up a short time later. The dog was already there, staring at me, a few centimetres from my face. Meanwhile, the portrait was in the water. The lady crouched down beside me without saying anything. We were all in the mud in silence.
I took a picture in my head of the scene behind us.
"It's not going to get ruined like that, is it?"
"If it is going to be ruined, it will be embellished."
"Did you see it growing in the water?"
"I was trying to learn something."
I answered her questions as if she were a stranger, as happens when you use the same words, in the same rhythm. And it doesn't happen. You compose music when it happens. I remained silent for a few minutes, she smiled at me, put her hand on my forearm and squeezed it. She thanked me.
The portrait fell completely into the water.
Freehand machine embroidery on water soluble fabric / sculpted epoxy resin
1,109 kg
16 X 2,6 X 22,4 gr
All the threads were black. I don't know what happened, but when exposed to direct light, some of the threads on the surface look like algae or filaments of something deep inside.
When I took the photograph of this work in the water it was morning and I was crouching with one foot in the mud, it was the only way I could take the photograph. It had rained all night and the moisture was seeping under my fingernails. A lady and a dog appeared while I was thinking about how pointless what I was doing was. At first I pretended to be doing something vaguely normal, but I gave up a short time later. The dog was already there, staring at me, a few centimetres from my face. Meanwhile, the portrait was in the water. The lady crouched down beside me without saying anything. We were all in the mud in silence.
I took a picture in my head of the scene behind us.
"It's not going to get ruined like that, is it?"
"If it is going to be ruined, it will be embellished."
"Did you see it growing in the water?"
"I was trying to learn something."
I answered her questions as if she were a stranger, as happens when you use the same words, in the same rhythm. And it doesn't happen. You compose music when it happens. I remained silent for a few minutes, she smiled at me, put her hand on my forearm and squeezed it. She thanked me.
The portrait fell completely into the water.
Freehand machine embroidery on water soluble fabric / sculpted epoxy resin
1,109 kg
16 X 2,6 X 22,4 gr
All the threads were black. I don't know what happened, but when exposed to direct light, some of the threads on the surface look like algae or filaments of something deep inside.
When I took the photograph of this work in the water it was morning and I was crouching with one foot in the mud, it was the only way I could take the photograph. It had rained all night and the moisture was seeping under my fingernails. A lady and a dog appeared while I was thinking about how pointless what I was doing was. At first I pretended to be doing something vaguely normal, but I gave up a short time later. The dog was already there, staring at me, a few centimetres from my face. Meanwhile, the portrait was in the water. The lady crouched down beside me without saying anything. We were all in the mud in silence.
I took a picture in my head of the scene behind us.
"It's not going to get ruined like that, is it?"
"If it is going to be ruined, it will be embellished."
"Did you see it growing in the water?"
"I was trying to learn something."
I answered her questions as if she were a stranger, as happens when you use the same words, in the same rhythm. And it doesn't happen. You compose music when it happens. I remained silent for a few minutes, she smiled at me, put her hand on my forearm and squeezed it. She thanked me.
The portrait fell completely into the water.