Sheila Hicks, Evolving Tapestry—Soleil, 1984, America, Dyed Linen (Wound, tied and knotted), 14 x 16 x 15 in. (35.6 x 40.6 x 38.1 cm): Three pieces (a) 74 in. (188 cm) ; (b) 49 in. (124.5 cm) ; (c) 42 in. (106.7 cm).

The threads taunt your hands to compare just how soft and airy this is to your stuffed animals. If you were to touch it, you would find three separate spirals build Hick’s tapestry that slowly sink as gravity causes them to settle into their evolved form. Building off her legacy of textile art, the sculpture uses wound, tied, and knotted linen to form a bouquet of threads, whose oranges, yellows, and greens resolve in a pointillist manner. Though rarely found in nature, the sculpture’s colour palette evokes moss, lichens, flowers, and, as suggested by its title, the sun. The transition between the organized chaos in the front and the ordered ponytails of bound string at the back, disorient the pieces natural feel. Feel the piece reach out to you and wander around to see how your comfort evolve as you notice the manipulation.

This video is a response to this work of art.

What does it mean to own something? What if it is just in the world, can you claim something for you? How does that happen? Who are you buying land from? What about the things on the land? What happens to them? Or the bunny that hops away? Or the water that trickles down into the earth? Can you dig down and take it from the dirt? Can you put a pump deep in the earth for the oil? What if it’s in a reservoir? How much of that reservoir can you take? What about the bones that made that oil? Are those artifacts for you? Can you sell the things you find? What if those bones are human? What does being human change? What do humans change? What are people entitled to? What are you entitled to? Have you always been entitled to things? Have you always had things? What do you have that others don’t?