The tao as darning
AVA LACOON explores the porosity of LINDY LEE'S Ouroboros, weaving in contemplations on the tao as darning.
‘The wound is where we connect to the world’
To prepare for the colder months I’ve begun visibly mending jumpers through the process of darning. Visible darning quickly revealed itself to me as kindred with Lindy Lee’s Ouroboros. Both are an act of celebrating the wound and the way. Taoist philosophy of the way, or tao, refers to the act of being a part of the universe. As the world is in constant flux, we must therefore look to the way, the harmoniser of all things as a way of being, listening and attending to the constant flux of the cosmos.
The act of darning celebrates breakage as the site of true humanity. The holes and tears found in clothing are the residue of aliveness — embracing, resting, failing, fidgeting, rubbing and engaging. True to Lee’s sentiment, these are sites where we connect to the world. Darning does not seek to cover but embraces what already exists. The exposed threads at the site of the fabric’s laceration are visibly highlighted in the mend.
The foundations of a darning mend are created using the warp, a long and continuous running stitch in alternating rows. Each time the needle punctures the fabric, a reinjuring occurs. Then the weft stitch serpentines the fabrics warp threads. Under one warp, over one warp, right to left and back again. Each warp and weft stitch gently cradle each other. Under one warp, over one warp and over and over.
In darning you must not pull the yarn tight, but rather keep it loose.
Like the Ouroboros’ perforated steel exoskeleton, darning has intrinsic porosity, there is always space between the weft and warp for the qi, the vital life force of all living entities. Perhaps we can imagine the way as having a warp and weft, weaving a cosmic textile.
Lee’s repetitive puncturing of the metal slab that constructs Ouroboros gives birth to wounds, transforming it into a semi-permeable membrane, with channels and pathways allowing for spontaneous qi flow. As if an exhalation was released from the steel with each impaling, making way to facilitate and support the constant flux of the universe’s warp and weft. Through the violent yet regenerative gesture, Lee creates more than a public sculpture but gifts us all a space that supports the transience of our energies. The Ouroboros is a conduit for bringing the individual, community and world into greater harmony. Lee demonstrates that care is not always gentle and kind.
Darning tutorials have all echoed the same sentiment back to me — never tie a single knot. A knot will be felt forever. A knot would threaten the qi. Instead, you lace the tail back into your new mend. Under one warp, over one warp, left to right, right to left until the thread meets itself again. Embracing that which already exists. A reminder of the symbol which Lee’s Ouroboros is named after: the serpent which devours its own tail, only to look back at its own face. Each darn is a reminder of the never-ending processes of existence.
I catch myself hoping a new hole appears in my beloved clothing. A craving not unlike that of a serpent eating itself, each darn a death for birth. Each darn an ouroboros. Similarly, as a piece of public artwork, the wounds will not cease in Lee’s Ouroboros. Its material is fissiparous, ready to split into more wounds. The erosion of the metal, dents and scratches will accumulate like a worn elbow on a jumper. Reminding us of the processes of existence, evoking infinity.
If you stand inside the belly of Ouroboros on a sunny day you can witness the fleeting threads of the cosmic weaving in the beams of light passing through the wounds. The universe weaving in and out of the sculpture’s punctures, between earth, humankind and heaven and circling back again. Catching us in its stitch as we are held in the belly of the sculpture.
The tao as darning, holding the universe together.
This story is part of the 2024 Young Writers Digital Residency.
Ava Lacoon was a Guest Editor of Hyphen, Artlink’s Warltati / Summer issue 44:3, 2024. Read the Guest Editor’s editorial or visit Artlink.