Video 3"

The knitting continued. Now in Paris! I guess you can tell. Well I am still not sure what this video is supposed to mean.
After 5 days in Paris, it felt kinda right to do a video like this. I won`t give explanations here, as I don`t have them.







Ps: We are not Americans.

Aussies either!











1 comment:

  1. I d like to add this poem of Faith Wilding at this point


    Waiting
    A Poem by Faith Wilding
    Waiting . . . waiting . . . waiting . . .
    Waiting for someone to come in
    Waiting for someone to hold me
    Waiting for someone to feed me
    Waiting for someone to change my diaper Waiting . . .
    Waiting to scrawl, to walk, waiting to talk
    Waiting to be cuddled
    Waiting for someone to take me outside
    Waiting for someone to play with me
    Waiting for someone to take me outside
    Waiting for someone to read to me, dress me, tie my shoes
    Waiting for Mommy to brush my hair
    Waiting for her to curl my hair
    Waiting to wear my frilly dress
    Waiting to be a pretty girl
    Waiting to grow up Waiting . . .
    Waiting for my breasts to develop
    Waiting to wear a bra
    Waiting to menstruate
    Waiting to read forbidden books
    Waiting to stop being clumsy
    Waiting to have a good figure
    Waiting for my first date
    Waiting to have a boyfriend
    Waiting to go to a party, to be asked to dance, to dance close
    Waiting to be beautiful
    Waiting for the secret
    Waiting for life to begin Waiting . . .
    Waiting to be somebody
    Waiting to wear makeup
    Waiting for my pimples to go away
    Waiting to wear lipstick, to wear high heels and stockings
    Waiting to get dressed up, to shave my legs
    Waiting to be pretty Waiting . . .
    Waiting for him to notice me, to call me
    Waiting for him to ask me out
    Waiting for him to pay attention to me
    Waiting for him to fall in love with me
    Waiting for him to kiss me, touch me, touch my breasts
    Waiting for him to pass my house
    Waiting for him to tell me I’m beautiful
    Waiting for him to ask me to go steady
    Waiting to neck, to make out, waiting to go all the way
    Waiting to smoke, to drink, to stay out late
    Waiting to be a woman Waiting . . .
    Waiting for my great love
    Waiting for the perfect man
    Waiting for Mr. Right Waiting . . .
    Waiting to get married
    Waiting for my wedding day
    Waiting for my wedding night
    Waiting for sex
    Waiting for him to make the first move
    Waiting for him to excite me
    Waiting for him to give me pleasure
    Waiting for him to give me an orgasm Waiting . . .
    Waiting for him to come home, to fill my time Waiting . . .
    Waiting for my baby to come
    Waiting for my belly to swell
    Waiting for my breasts to fill with milk
    Waiting to feel my baby move
    Waiting for my legs to stop swelling
    Waiting for the first contractions
    Waiting for the contractions to end
    Waiting for the head to emerge
    Waiting for the first scream, the afterbirth
    Waiting to hold my baby
    Waiting for my baby to suck my milk
    Waiting for my baby to stop crying
    Waiting for my baby to sleep through the night
    Waiting for my breasts to dry up
    Waiting to get my figure back, for the stretch marks to go away
    Waiting for some time to myself
    Waiting to be beautiful again
    Waiting for my child to go to school
    Waiting for life to begin again Waiting . . .
    Waiting for my children to come home from school
    Waiting for them to grow up, to leave home
    Waiting to be myself
    Waiting for excitement
    Waiting for him to tell me something interesting, to ask me how I feel
    Waiting for him to stop being crabby, reach for my hand, kiss me good morning
    Waiting for fulfillment
    Waiting for the children to marry
    Waiting for something to happen Waiting . . .
    Waiting to lose weight
    Waiting for the first gray hair
    Waiting for menopause
    Waiting to grow wise
    Waiting . . .
    Waiting for my body to break down, to get ugly
    Waiting for my flesh to sag
    Waiting for my breasts to shrivel up
    Waiting for a visit from my children, for letters
    Waiting for my friends to die
    Waiting for my husband to die Waiting . . .
    Waiting to get sick
    Waiting for things to get better
    Waiting for winter to end
    Waiting for the mirror to tell me that I’m old
    Waiting for a good bowel movement
    Waiting for the pain to go away
    Waiting for the struggle to end
    Waiting for release
    Waiting for morning
    Waiting for the end of the day
    Waiting for sleep Waiting . . .


    “Waiting” was performed at Womanhouse in Los Angeles sponsored by the
    Feminist Art Program, California Institute of the Arts.

    ReplyDelete