Yesterday. There was only laundry. Spring cleaning. Everything is so dusty, musty and crusty. Laundry is cloth, maybe that is why I love it. I also love laundry shadows. I always stay looking. How they float. Like ghostly exits to other worlds. These pieces seem to fit right in. Blend. While I feel rather in between. Between a now named stress and an unformed path.
Categories: Cloth Stories