The prints bordering the white empty space of the wall created a strange space of it, silent amidst its commentaries the prints( my thesis “The Word, the Image, imago mundi explored, amongst others, the subject of medievial manuscripts and modern advertising. )
The stones in the pile were like layers in a very personal little altar ; they also aroused couriosity- one of the professors asked if he could take the pile apart to see all of the paintigs and everyone joined him in looking through them.
On the opposite wall hung two hand-made papers that were of special importance to me .I use the paper I make as a kind of scrapbook memoir, preserving moments and emotions embedded in pulp.These two were created in Donegal.Into one a nearly intelligible bit of paper with my notes for the thesis that I had not written a year back was embedded; the other was empty except for a single line in blue ink and the small strip pf the positive pregnancy test for our second child. On the same wall I made two red circles with vertical lines scratched in the wall from the ceiling down going through them. This was a direct cultural quotation. American Indian women apparently used to paint red circles on buffalo skins, symbolizing the sun’s movent from horizon to horizon and acting as protection for their children, usually cared for at sunset. Lacking buffalo skin, I painted the circles in my own blood.