I’ve been staring at an unfinished shirt for weeks now, it’s hung up on the WIP hook to the right of me in the eaves of my home studio window.

I sew often as a break between making the kind of work which can sometimes drain me and often forces me into taking moments away from it. This shirt was supposed to be one of those, i didn’t draft it, it’s a pattern I’ve made before, it should just be a quick cut and sew to give my brain a boost, and my mind a break.

It has not become that, it became a philosophical inquiry in it’s own right, and now as we stare at one another from half a meter away we both realise we are carrying a weight for one another.

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I wrote about this shirt some time before this day, when I sit in front of it and decide that we need to be free of one another. And perhaps it took time for this feeling to settle enough to begin to move past it.

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It is about the monotony, the repetition, the watching the world passing you by and feeling like you’re stuck in place, a rock under the weight of all of the other rocks, unable to fathom a way out of the minutiae of being another piece, in another wall, in another life. 

What if all you can do is repeat the same thing day after day, over the top of the same old life, the same old you. 

Until one day, you realise, none of us are at the top, it is just stone after stone after stone as far as the eye can see, and we are all pressing upon one another. 

And you’re just another rock, 

in just another wall.