And on standby. Ready to take in any clothes. That plastic is like one of those emergency curtains that separate one bed from another, that preserve the ailments from the eyes of others. With the necessary tools for any intervention: the tweezers. There is not much...
The clothes of the first string are gathered to make way for the grey, plethoric dress, which opens itself to dance. A dress that calls for a body. A body for dance. It asks to be filled with the right lightness to follow the rhythm set...
After a long time looking at it, I can only think of this one word....
I always imagine them being washed by woman's hands. Never by man's hands. Perhaps in self-defence. I would wash them for her, by hand. A delayed warm soak with a slight ouch! of detergent. Then a rinse, rubbing there and there if necessary. Then hang them out to dry. In...
