In Sutures, I conjure archival bonds that we inherit and pass on as mothers. Whilst love may dominate discourses, it is the unconditional reverence devoted to what has been written O so long ago that gestures aesthetic moments such as these. Stepping towards tears that foretold a tearing - a searing - in a premeditated and masked void, bound pages reveal themselves here in the barren landscape as stems of kintsugi.
"Existence, nevertheless, cannot itself be sacrificed" writes Jean-Luc Nancy. "Existing can consist in sacrificing, in devoting much (of time, forces, goods) but not a single instant to sacrificing the existent as such – except if I know, with scientific certainty, that my life has to be given for a particular cause. Yet, this certain science will be a sacred science, revelation, knowledge reserved for a concealed access – for an amorous intelligence."
As such, my existence as mother will not be sacrificed for I am the keeper of knowledge for another life form - a life awaiting its primordial rebirth. And whilst one may forget how much fractures and dissonance are close and familiar (the strangeness of the rupture, of the hidden, the desired, the feared, the narcissist), it is the distant in its approach to truth-making that beckons to stabilise the moment. Delicately dedicating oneself to the withdrawn, singularities trickle as seams or rivers of sutures - one by one.
Nancy, J. (2013). Notes on the Sacred. Theory, Culture & Society, 30(5), 153-158.
