Morvan, France · ongoing

This work is still becoming.

There is something about the forests of the Morvan that I have not yet found words for.

I return to them again and again. The darkness, the filtered light, the silence between the trees. In certain places the forest seems to hold something — not a story exactly, but the sense that something has happened, or is about to.

I began bringing dresses into these woods.

There is no body.
There is nobody.

And yet, sometimes, there is a presence.

I don't know yet where Les Disparues is leading me.

For now, I follow.