Each square is a day; each thread, an hour going by. Woven Calendar orders time
the way a grandmother would at her loom: patiently, row after row, letting some
days fill in while others stay open like small windows onto the night. Magenta lines
cross the weave like heartbeats marked on the skin of time, memories that repeat
and refuse to fade. Against the black ground, the white grid glows like a
handwritten page, an intimate record of what has been lived, where emptiness
also tells the story.
