And six months later..a baby who is so wholly her own person. Who moves and dreams and chooses. The little ear picture seems a thousand years ago, and no time, too. I can never remember them at any age other than the one they are exactly now, yet at the same time i know that soon there wont be that warm weight of baby so endlessly on me... maybe this is why I have been drawn to making a very particular vein of new work that looks as though it has been lost on some dark ocean floor for years, silent and still, gathering layers of encrusting debris. Where nothing is changing. And everything sleeps.
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