Kunsthalle Zürich, 22. 5. 2001
weak knees — My legs are stiff and immobile, wrapped in wool yarn. I cut open this armour with knives and scissors. Luminous colours come billowing out. A spherical wool sculpture slowly emerges, with my body still stuck in the middle of it. Not until all the yarn has been cut through and the cardboard supports removed can I walk away, leaving behind a giant pompon, almost a metre in diameter; it weighs 50 kilos.