you have touch with your hands his things

method/practice/medium: sort clothes worn over decades by mourned loved one (in this instance the artist's husband, wash and document in their original form. Cut clothes into pieces with a view to sewing them together as a Wagga (a vernacular rough quilt, often made by men for utilitarian use). In cutting up the garments, ensure that the signs of their 'clothes-ness' are retained. Buttons, hems, signs of wear become features. Piece the Wagga together line by line, retaining an improvisational approach, only determining the colour relationship in the next row after sewing together the previous row. Hang the work at various sizes, take down the hung work, add more rows, continue over years until all clothes exhausted. 

"I am very concerned when I imagine how strangled and cut off you currently live, afraid of touching anything that is filled with memories (and what is not filled with memories?). You will freeze in place if you remain this way. You must not, dear. You have to move. You have to return to his things. You have to touch with your hands his things, which through their manifold relations and attraction are after all also yours." - Rilke