As we puncture the surface, we make our mark. The unseen underside produces a rupture point. Lived experience witnesses a back and forth, stories interweave with each other, we learn when to duck and dive, when to expose ourselves, when to hide. In the dark, thread is captivated by the light. 

Warp and weft are bound together in cloth, reliant on each other. Yet a fray, a loosening, a release of tension and a threat appears. Thread here is the founding component, its vitality inherent in the breach of tension. The cloth matrix exposes vulnerabilities, tenuous relationships.  

There is an intermingling of lived experience. Mourning and memory breathe new resonances into fascinations with the fragility of tension. Fragmented moments of clarity, the threat passed; reconciliation begins.  

We are separated, released, we are in digital space, then physical, threshold. We hold ourselves on the cusp. Life has altered completely.  

Each opening, closing, there is a st(tt)uttering, hovering, loom(ing). 

Pack / unpack.  

Pack / unpack. 

A thread can knot, fray, break and entangle. 

It is threaded, looped, folded, enfolded. 

Paper thread enables words that I dare not speak. 

The fluttering potentiality for it all to fall apart.