NO RHYME OR REASON

The disease Scleroderma seems to have no rhyme or reason to it, has strange manifestations in my body, even makes my own body seem strange.  I often feel alien in my own body, and since Scleroderma is an autoimmune disease, my own body is essentially attacking itself - as if the body itself is its own enemy.

I eco-dyed papers leftover from when I used to be able to do bookbinding, layered it with batting, then I intuitively followed the creases, wrinkles, rips and dye stains on the paper with burning, running stitch, buttonhole stitch, and French knots.

I used a modified Coptic binding stitch with waxed linen thread to bind the small quilts to rusted wire to create the shapes.  The messy interiors (the "wrong" side) are visible through the front openings, though somewhat obscured by the looping done with fine green sewing thread.