All that is tangled

An experiment in tying, untying, and retying knots; in placing offerings of ridiculous matter at your feet, and asking for the choreo to the next eight bars of the dance. If I listen closely, you’ll show me the way but the song is capricious, and if the Wind keeps changing I’ll get stuck like this. I can’t tell if that’s a tunnel or a painted wall ahead. You facetious deity, you. What’s up, Doc? Hopefully i’ll see you then and there. I’ll listen out for you.

A sculptural installation using rope, fabric, wind, foam and any old shit Mallika found on the street and assigned meaning to.