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The only basket I made myself, that I still have, has come undone quite beautifully without my help. An old basket self, for a time forgotten, encourages more truthful looking.
In the year I became old, I let the forgotten re-emerge.
August 21, 2013 in Basket Diaries, Cloth is like self, documenting old work, identity, layers, life, looking, moons, redefinition, rings of vision, scraps of self, self portrait, The Year I became Old, transformation, Un-Doing, worn | Permalink