If you hold your hand in a certain way in front of your stomach - you can’t help but see Botticelli's Venus, if you turn your back then perhaps a painting by Caspar David Friedrich, turn your head to one side then a girl with a pearl earring. In with all we know the tension of the garment takes the lead. Perhaps it half covers a head, or becomes a scarf, a veil; a hood, pushing back and tilting the skull in such a way to move away from being a Da Vinci Madonna to become Caravaggio’s Mary Magdalene in ecstasy.

 

In With all we know we force ourselves to take our time to remove a layer, pulling one arm out so slowly as to join the other, allowing the fabric to create a traction, restricting the fluid movement of what is an ordinary day to day action.