An imagined visual interpretation of the book “Woolgathering”, by Patti Smith.

“There it lies on the ground before us, a drop of faceted blood, more real than a ghost, glowing. If we stir it may disappear.”

“Gathering what needs to be gathered. The discarded. The adored. Bits of human spirit that somehow got away. Caught up in an apron. Plucked by a gloved hand. From all this the cloud is formed.”