raiding my own pantry

In the collection of Historic Northampton, there is an iron beartrap made by a local blacksmith. I've been wanting to incorporate this image into my upcoming show. My initial impulse was to have it interacting with an empty fur-collared coat (one of many that have been handed off to me- this one belonged to my maternal grandmother). I wanted to convey some menace, struggle, but... also ascension and near by-the-skin-of-one's teeth escape. I've animated the garment in a way that I feel relates somewhat to clumsy storefront displays (something's just not quite right- and one of the hands is missing a thumb...) and have it struggling to grasp a line of tied-together baby dresses (also of my family lineage) . I was planning to have the coat just barely ensnared, hanging just above a replica of the trap...
I couldn't figure out what this "ladder" (as in tied together sheets a damsel might fashion out of her bedding and either escape out the window or commit suicide by means of hanging herself with) is attached to/ leading to.
And then,
I decided to raid my own pantry- like a bear looking for honey, I put my fist in the hornet's nest.
Or something.
I haven't decided if the beartrap will actually interact directly with this element, or if this is its mirror.

and then there's this:

frank is all business all day every day

odious tedious fungus

Expanding on the project "Repeat", I'm creating a new texture that creeps over the walls. 

Like an ivy. Like an illness. 

A joyously weeping wound constructed of pieced together fragments of memory I can't get to.

Because it isn't mine. Because it wouldn't have me anyway.

"repeat" refers to both cyclical nature of history
 and
to the length of the pattern in the fabric
 before it repeats again..

cut-out upholstery fabric pieced back together
in a less-constrained manner

working in some fragments of an afghan
my great-grandmother crocheted. we have never met.
it reeks of mothballs. 

with a touch of trademarked red felt viscera 

 much work to do in the cutting and pasting world...much productive stillness in the studio in weeks to come. i welcome the company of story-tellers and nimble-fingered friends... and netflix.

                                                         (and frank)................

thanks, little dude. you are truly the best studio-mate.

 And- here's some other curiosities from my workbench:

broken dishes 

Diagram A collage under waxed paper