Text by Stefania Vastano
Sacred or profane, the uterus holds. Life outpours with its sticky filaments, divine rays, suns.
Those who do not explore it, wither, those who don’t hold, die.
That’s why looking at the “sacred ovum” is still not enough, it would be far better
letting ourselves be caught by the Arachne web or meditate.
Or else act, as prolific mothers whose silent task would be to deliver what life has generously given them.
Mother, child, mirror images and endless glances…
Legno di tiglio e fili di cotone
cm 48 x 36 x 8