I turned my regular bed into a daybed on a daily basis, offering myself a resting place in my study. There were two layers that I could invoke for privacy. The first one was subtle. A semi-transparent space divider would give me some privacy while provoking a somewhat intimate encounter with visitors. The motif on the fabric repeated one of the bookmatched elm patterns in the house, which I had photographed, scanned, enlarged, and then printed onto the textile. The sloppy work of the photo lab had left chemical traces on my negative (i.e. darkly outlined circles) that showed prominently on the scan. But together with the dust that had collected on the photograph these accumulations of people’s gestures, of substances across time became for me a fitting element for the McCormick House, both as a spatial addition and a poetical gesture. 

The second layer of privacy was direct and clear: A closed door with a note telling visitors not to disturb the artist.