We know how being covered in this medicine wool would feel. Heavy stitched wool weighing on shoulders, over arms, on the length of our body lying under it.
How safe we feel.
If we were wrapped in this work, we might feel closer to how earth feels under a field of blowing grass, how water feels as it moves constantly in a quietly ruffled lake.
A small velvet cross in a taffeta square is a stone to hold onto and pray to forever.
Bed quilts and blankets, hillsides and suns, seas and skies.
We become aware of the body moving slowly, hands not touching.
We can’t touch time in a gallery, but we know how it feels.
As we move through, slow steps, hands not touching, we become aware of the body.
We can’t ask why this work was made, only know that it is.