May 26th

The egg sac seething

silk severed weave and repair

afraid of the dark

I went to the Freud Museum, to catch the Louise Bourgeois exhibition “the return of the repressed” before it finished. I really admire Bourgeois work, so interesting and unique, so personal.

There is something ancient and deep seated about her art, from the darkest recesses of dreams and metaphor. It speaks of maternal relationships, sadness, abandonment. It really drags you in. It makes you feel something. Her work is honest and beautiful.

I’ve interlaced some of her words in the Haiku.

"I came from a family of repairers. The spider is a repairer. If you bash into the web of a spider, she doesn't get mad. She weaves and repairs it."

(one of Bourgeois’ spiders in the garden, i took the photo, then I noticed the “no photography” sign, oops)

And also from her textile piece “I am afraid”.

 

I am afraid of silence

I am afraid of the dark

I am afraid to fall down

I am afraid of insomnia

I am afraid of emptiness

 

Is something missing?

yes, something is missing and always will be missing

the experience of emptiness

 

To miss

what are you missing?

nothing

I am imperfect but I am lacking nothing

maybe something is missing but I do not know and therefore do not suffer

 

empty stomach empty house empty bottle

the falling into a vacuum signals the abandonment of the mother.