That day, a veil was drawn; a fine mesh fell over her; a net was pulled about her. That day, she tried to shout a warning to the masses ghosting past her but the strings and strands wove themselves tighter; her mouth was stopped, her words caught between the warp and the weft. That day, she dug in her nails; she clawed at fibres until, through the tiniest of gaps, she squeezed out a sentence; it was the only sentence she had left. “Take me home,” she said. But nobody knew where she lived and she couldn’t remember or couldn’t tell them or couldn’t care less. That day, she felt the earth quake under her feet. The axis tipped; the globe slipped out of kilter; she slid under the ground, under the weather, under a spell. That day, when she stopped, the world carried on. Not a single soul noticed she’d g o n e
Detachment and Disorientation are the key themes in That Day. This work has developed in tandem with John Hampton’s exhibition pieces.
