Unwinding

Goldsmiths Degree Show 2025

For seven days I will bathe, reconnecting fragments of body, soul and mind.
I will listen to the beat of the heart, vibrating through the water, submerged
in solitude, stillness, silence.
A process of undoing and becoming,
restoring in the stillness of our first physical state.
The bath is a womb.
The past is sewn together loosely, catching the drip of the present.
A process of merging, an attempt to integrate.
The water leaks, it stains, it weeps;
Separating, it can never be whole again,
spread across our many selves.
Spilling, seeping, soothing.
There is no stopping the overflow.
Soaking,
I tear apart the memories, suspended on a timeline.
Drenched, dripping, drying.
Undoing, becoming, ongoing.

I leave it all behind.

Kaolin Clay
Pink Clay
Green Clay
Red Clay
Salt
Charcoal

Bathing in the white of the Mother’s milk, the paleness of newborn skin,
the blankness of the self at birth.
Soaking in the pink of the flesh, of the nipple, of the lips, of touch.
Lying in the green of my eyes, precocious and bearing witness.
Flooded in the red of rupture, menstruation, penetration.
Steeped in the salt of blood, sweat and tears.
Engulfed in the blackness of the unconscious, the unknown, the forgotten.