This is a cloth that probably has a long and alarmingly sad human story attached to it.
We live near two homeless shelters, and in the spaces in between residents from both carve out little spaces to sit, visit, sometimes sleep, drink, whatever else someone wants some privacy to do. As a consequence there are spaces we walk everyday 'littered' with textiles: old clothes, blankets, hats, mittens, scarves, tarpaulins. The guy who lives here regularly brings things home to wash and then send to Goodwill (or wear if we can use them). In fact, there is a sweat shirt in the washer as we speak.
This morning I found this cloth draped across a pile of steel rails along the train tracks. I inspected it, passed it by. It is rusted, moldy and dirty and has been part of a very hard life. But then I hurried back. It is also a textile with dozens of shades of red, green, brown and black, a textile I can use.
All this stuff I'm learning in Jude Hill's class is really sinking in.
