Every evening, after a day of work when her son is already asleep, Sima would sit down and embroider delicate thin lines to a composition of drawings as a song written on page, as jewelry adorns the house...
Chicken Salad
made in 1974
Who am I? What’s my name? Who can find me? I’m here, I’m there, I’ve never been here, yet I’m here all the time. I’m big and so small, bittersweet and smoky, precise yet asymmetrical, sunny wintery and cloudy.