I just spent the last 6 hours working on folios. On and off. I had to let a lot of it dry. But they're almost done. I ran out of black thread and nowI'm once again waiting for something to dry. I had to dip white thread in india ink to make it black. I had a better idea for them. On each page is a medical diagram of a hand or an X-ray of one, and torn up tracing paper that i had sewn on. On the tracing paper are pieces of a poem by Russell Edson called the Fight.
It goes:
A man is fighting with a cup of coffee. The rules: he must not
break the cup nor spill its coffee; nor must the cup break the
man's bones or spill his blood.
The man said, oh the hell with it, as he swept the cup to
the floor. The cup did not break but its coffee poured out
of its open self.
The cup cried, don't hurt me, please don't hurt me; I am
without mobility, I have no defense save my utility; use
me to hold your coffee.
I love Russell Edson's poetry. It's so funny.