”Någon syr, är det du?”
Det är jag som syr.
Jag syr mig själv en ny kropp.
I am in my bedroom; in my bed, surrounded by piles of fabrics. Teenage life creeps into my work. It is a closed room, protected from the possible looks of others. In this safe and isolated space an intimate examination of my own body takes place.
I study the shape of my body, from looking and feeling I translate the information and create new shapes that will become a doll’s body parts. I wonder who the doll is. It grows out of me, my feelings materialize and get caught up in the new body. But at the same time, it can never be me. There is an intimate encounter between my body and the doll’s body and I am struck by the feeling that it is reminiscent of how an intimate relationship with another human being can be experienced. When I don’t know where I quit and you start.
The doll’s body parts have become my dentures, I am transformed with the doll. I notice how I use the doll’s head as a mask and that I try to camouflage myself. I wonder if, by mixing together my and the doll’s bodies, I strive to erase the image of myself. By interfering, we become less definable. It’s like a serious play, where I build collage of mine and the doll’s body parts, and it creates a hybrid between us.