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As I open this image I immediately start to count. I am not counting anything on the actual page, but counting the things in my head I would want to count, in this light, in this moment, in this time – the time I cannot explain, or exactly what I am counting but my mind has changed the rhythm of it’s movement and I know that I am making lists – inside each list are other smaller more complicated lists, lists I am not sure I understand - am I counting them too? I would like to line up all the shoes I own and meticulously count the stitches that have been carved deep into the leather (not always leather I might add, sometimes rubber tires, wood, plastic of all colours, bamboos even stone.) Counting, counting, counting - gettingt to know, refamiliarising myself with what it was like to walk in, to wear, to watch, to wish for.. I am getting tired now “can I stop?” – who would I ask if I wanted to stop???[Emma Macfarlane 2006] |
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Rapunzel [Lucy Taylor 2005] |
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