Shard
Freehand machine embroidery on water soluble fabric / sculpted epoxy resin
1,555 kg
15,9 x 4 x 22,9 cm
Sometimes they settle right on you.
Sometimes they get inside, under the skin, some other times they remain on the surface. Sometimes they are stories that you hear, other times they are images passing before your eyes. Sometimes it's the adrenaline gaze of a fox you meet on the trail, other times it's the sound of laughter on a sidewalk at night. Sometimes they are people who belong to you, a dog's nose pocking your leg, sometimes they are strangers who tell you about an island.
An infinite echo of reflections that I keep with me. They are shards of gold. They settle on you, yes, but some end up right inside.
And, so adorned, walking down the stairs, it happens to hear their jingle.
Freehand machine embroidery on water soluble fabric / sculpted epoxy resin
1,555 kg
15,9 x 4 x 22,9 cm
Sometimes they settle right on you.
Sometimes they get inside, under the skin, some other times they remain on the surface. Sometimes they are stories that you hear, other times they are images passing before your eyes. Sometimes it's the adrenaline gaze of a fox you meet on the trail, other times it's the sound of laughter on a sidewalk at night. Sometimes they are people who belong to you, a dog's nose pocking your leg, sometimes they are strangers who tell you about an island.
An infinite echo of reflections that I keep with me. They are shards of gold. They settle on you, yes, but some end up right inside.
And, so adorned, walking down the stairs, it happens to hear their jingle.
Freehand machine embroidery on water soluble fabric / sculpted epoxy resin
1,555 kg
15,9 x 4 x 22,9 cm
Sometimes they settle right on you.
Sometimes they get inside, under the skin, some other times they remain on the surface. Sometimes they are stories that you hear, other times they are images passing before your eyes. Sometimes it's the adrenaline gaze of a fox you meet on the trail, other times it's the sound of laughter on a sidewalk at night. Sometimes they are people who belong to you, a dog's nose pocking your leg, sometimes they are strangers who tell you about an island.
An infinite echo of reflections that I keep with me. They are shards of gold. They settle on you, yes, but some end up right inside.
And, so adorned, walking down the stairs, it happens to hear their jingle.