When I was growing up, all the women in my house were using needles. I have always had a fascination with the needle, the magic power of the needle. The needle is used to repair the damage. It’s a claim to forgiveness. Louise Bourgeois
This quote leaped out at me recently. It is from the wonderful Louise Bourgeois who I came thisclose to meeting once. For years and years, she hosted a salon in her house in Chelsea for any artist who wanted to come and bring examples of their work to share. Barb Hunt was in town and we went together. Alas, it was near the end of her life and she was sleeping and no one wished to wake her up. The salon went on despite her absence - we were all there after all - and was hosted instead by two curators, who had good things to say and made me very glad I went. But still. But still, I did see the inside of her house, and if you know Louise Bourgeois' work, then that is saying something.
Forgiveness sounds nice but what does it really look like when one gives up the claim to being the injured party? And what if the person who caused thing that asks for forgiveness never acknowledges the need to be forgiven? Where is forgiveness then?
These thoughts crowd my mind as I pick up my needle.