Unpicking something is always an interesting experience. If you may remember, I had to get the help of the obsessive knitter (#4 – A Good Ribbing) to unpick some mittens I was rushing to finish on time awhile back (moral to this story: knitting is not going to grow miraculously longer just because you have somewhere else to be).

Which got me thinking about unravelling, as I was de-installing Washed Up, the exhibition at Selfridges in the heart of London, last weekend. Another overnight adventure (we finished at 6.30am), it always amazes me (even though it shouldn’t as I have done it enough times) how quickly something can be unpicked, pulled apart, re-made, renewed, re-thought through.

Perhaps it was the tiredness that confused my internal body clock and hazy mind. Who knows, but the thought remained: once unpicked, it will never be the same again, but that only invites new opportunities and possibilities for the future.

BDW