I am working on a new body of work which continues under the broad umbrella of containment, both literal and metaphorical. Fragmentation, language, and memory are my starting point.

The first three pieces, completed in 2005, Subject:, Happiness, and Memory were all constructed out of recycled muslin sewing patterns-- the first draft of a garment created by draping muslin over a form. The muslin was cut into small pieces and reconfigured as fragments contained on a stitched grid. Each finished piece contains reverse printed words that refer to things that are or can be fragmented. Subject: specifically picks out pieces of language received on a daily basis through my email inbox. Pulled out of their spam context, they cast out promises for a calmer, richer, software enhanced and sexually satisfied life. The pieced together muslin remnants create a new fabric that forms a canvas for printed text while the original meaning of the muslin disappears. Another variation of this idea occurs in my most recent body of work, Shoe Stories. As part of the shoe series, I created several “legs” which consist of small fragments of fabric contained within stitched netting. The fabric remnants—all pieces from other design projects—individually have their own associations and stories that can be read by those familiar with the past work. When assembled in a new context they become part of a new story, a narrative developed through fabric and thread.

This type of fragmentation and recontextualizing occurs frequently throughout daily life. Landscapes become fragmented when glimpsed through a moving car or train or recalled through memory. Language, especially, is often presented in a fragmented form; I think of overheard bits of discussions, such as one-sided cell phone conversations, or blips of dialogue heard while channel hopping or radio dialing. Email contains purposefully misspelled words to avoid spam filters; subject lines like “hi” or “urgent notice” attempt to lure and entice opening the unwanted message. Surprisingly, spontaneous poetry is often buried within many of these unwanted messages, visible only by viewing the source code. Frequently only parts of the narrative are given and it is up to the individual to encode or interpret the story.