This hand-cut piece was made for ‘The Museum of Us’ exhibition at the Horse Hospital in London in 2004.
‘This morning I woke up and then I got dressed and did all the things you do all day everyday. Worrying and then not giving a damn, feeling scared and then feeling brave and the feeling scared again. All the different emotions you feel every day you really only share with yourself. But then for the first time ever I felt completely alone, I mean totally on my own I mean, what I really mean can’t easily describe except that in here in this thing called me there is just me all alone and it just isn’t enough. Someone can hold me and reassure me and talk to me and care for me and think of me but they can’t come inside of me and be with me, all the time. I feel so alone don’t you? Tell me it just isn’t me, because if it is just me as I suspect then I think I really must be going mad. All the things that I do all day are only distractions to keep me from remembering this awful truth. I can’t do this. I really can’t. I can’t tell you or myself what I am thinking it’s too awful to even think about even now as I write my hand is trembling I can’t even write what I have to write to get it out of my brain to put it onto paper. To let it out somehow. Because I know that it really is just only me alone.’