In the beginning, this one was called ‘Solitude’, but it became something else.
I’m thinking ‘Communion’. A joining of two Latin-derived words: ‘com’ [with] and ‘unus’ [one]. The way this cloth listened so patiently during its construction makes ‘solitude’ something of an injustice. It was never alone, and neither was I.
It took some effort of will not to fill all those background squares with something. As the cloth listened to me, I listened to the cloth. It needed empty spaces. Time and space; sometimes I think they are the same thing.