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IT IS YOU AND NOT ME

My mother's old thread, wire

2018

    In a corner an almost unnoticed shape appears. All white, the weaving seems to come out of the white of the wall. Minimum. Nostalgic. This shape is the memory of what I have from my mother's embroidery. The yellow marks of time, the characteristic smell from the closets at home.

    It's you and not me.

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