September 2017 | stuffed animals, fabric, thread, laundry basket
Escape, escape, the whispers speak from whites that can’t be seen. Spill from the edges and drip to the floor, stretch from the holds that can’t bring them home, desiring nothing more than to get away. But, its holds are strong and it's pulling them back, consuming once more, it’s a trap. Dangle and dismantle, explode from the seams, but it’s a war stuck in time, forever being tangled.