Frammenti
During my stay in a secluded cottage in Cornwall, I’d go out in the dark and isolated landscape and paint at night. I could barely see my hand, brush and colors. All I could paint were fragments of the dark. I painted them in one single breath, transforming the fearful dark and rushing back to the cottage and the comfort of its warm glow. I thought about duality and wholeness, about fragmentation as infinite energy of possibility. Once back in the studio I decided to hand stitch some night fragments on old pillowcases, which my grandmother handed down to my mother. I cut the pillows into squares and sewed the linen fragments together. They unfold into bed sheets, slowly revealing traces of memory embroidered by 3 generations of women.