In our life, clothes are incredibly individual. It wraps us up and warms us. It signals our work, our tastes, how we want to be seen. It becomes a tactile reminder of what was once created to fit a body that can no longer fill it
And this reminder is ghostly floating in weightlessness, locked in a cage. Gone and buried, but still visible and accessible to our memory
Clothes are extraordinary vessels of memory, in which there is a real, aching emptiness of loss...
