Monday, February 05, 2007


folds poem

While playing with the folds, the shape of the cloth is forever interchanging,
parts of the surface become exposed, others withhold unseen .
Shifting... a new shape still to come, never identical.

In this continuous movement, of folding and unfolding, hiding and revealing,
a game of disclosing and concealing fragments of the fabric seems to be created.

A constant transformation, metamorphoses into new forms,
temporary and unstable, remains but a moment in its given shape,
only to abandon it on my next touch.

And as I touch it , different narratives unravel
awakening the life that lies dormant in the weave of the cloth.
Alive, yet intangible.

Alicia Felberbaum 1996


Blogger Arielle said...

This poem reminds me of Japanese parcels and presents beautifully wrapped in light fabrics.
It also reminds me of the highly ritualistic way in which saris are being folded around women and belts around kimonos. And how hakamas (Aikido trousers)are being carefully folded back into a small square after each use.
In these cases, the folding is always done in the same order, with the same gestures and therefore has its own beauty.

12:57 pm  

Post a Comment

<< Home