"Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,..."
Emily Dickinson
This was a week where hope was ever present as was the need of hope.
The hand-ufacturing was rolling along at a measured, yet productive pace. I am learning about time, my use and distortion of it, as I try to consider its value to someone else as it is embodied in a piece of work.
Artist Residency at IAA
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