“The Inner Thread: Embroidering the Wound” makes a precise incision in the skin to reveal what we usually hide: the scaffolding of sensitivity that holds us together.


The colored threads emerging from within are not decorative, but symbolic organs: blue like veins, pink like arteries, yellow like nerves… Each hue follows a bodily code I’ve translated into textile, as if memory, trauma, or biography could be embroidered.


In this piece, anatomy becomes emotion. I’m drawn to how the body’s language can be approached through craft: sewing as an act of intimate repair, embroidery as a way to narrate the wound. The pointed foot —tense, almost suspended— speaks of the effort to hold oneself upright while exposing what is most fragile. An internal choreography, laid bare, stitched with precision.


It’s a portrait of what hurts and sustains us, woven from within.


This work is part of the series “Dancing the Thread,” which deconstructs the aesthetics of folklore and dance to reveal what lies beneath beauty: the ornament that constricts, the body that holds, the tradition that weighs. In a conceptual key, thread no longer decorates—it binds, tears, and denounces.


The aesthetic, inspired by the imagery of traditional costumes and the bodily language of sacrifice, also alludes to ballet: that constant tension between beauty and pain, between effort and imposed perfection. These are portraits of the emotional structures —seemingly invisible— that support our bodies, our stories, our dances.