I just said good-bye to a dear friend. She was here for weeks. And during that time, she was – shall we say – very present.

She is someone who is foreground. Full on. Not someone to go unnoticed.

While she was here, I was playing with the small rolls of fabric I had on hand. I had saved them from an earlier art project. The colors were chosen to move across other pieces. But they were ready to relate in this new whimsical idea.

So I began to construct the wings. Wings for my imperfect angels. Hovering beneath the spider plant. Together.

I worked on them during this time with my friend – a time filled with interaction. Lots of talk. Lots of doing. Very little quiet.

When I first hung the wings – they were, yes, full. Bigger, wider, heavier. An apt reflection of my energy.

I took them apart. Took them down in size. Reconsidered the relationship between the two.

Basically, I needed to understand how they related to the negative space. The surroundings in which they hung. The quiet.

My friend is now gone. My wings are here, reflecting that time together. The denseness of then.

Sitting in the quiet of now.