I met Mary [Hamill] in New York at my exhibition and when I told her about my oral history project she asked, "Would it be possible to incorporate visual art?" My sister stitches pillowcases, which led to Mary suggesting using cyanotype on them. I originally thought of the idea of pillowcases because when people get married, they have the bride and the groom lay their hands on each other's pillows while their relatives tie ribbons on their wrists. And then on the bed you usually have two pillows - one for yourself and one for your loved one - so when one is gone, one pillow remains.
Where are we going?” Annabelle asked, resisting his hold on her wrist. “To the house. If they’re not willing to be witnesses, then it seems I’ll have to debauch you in front of someone else.
And my wrist froze STAGE FRIGHT
Long term, the PC and workstation will wither because computing access will be everywhere: in the walls, on wrists, and in 'scrap computers' lying about waiting to be grabbed as needed.
What else is there to do in college except drink beer or slit one's wrists?
Before I would hurt a child, I would slit my wrists.
And to tell the truth I don't want to let go of the wrists of idleness, I don't want to sell my life for money, I don't even want to come in out of the rain.
Scars crossed her welded wrists.
I read in the paper that I'd slashed my wrists. But I didn't.
When humans work, they frequently become unaware of their own body, their own senses, are surprised to find that their wrists ache or their backs are sore or their friend has left the building. It's as close to an out-of-body experience as can be achieved short of fifty volts, a circle of warding, a pigeon's claw cut from an albino female of purest white feathers, or a lot of mushrooms.
We couldn't imagine the emptiness of a creature who put a razor to her wrists and opened her veins, the emptiness and the calm.
I staggered backward-her one hand gripping my shoulder, the other still holding my wrists behind her-and she followed until my back hit the wall.
That same piercing screech in her voice every time at the hospital. "Do something!" When I slit my wrists. "Help her!" The last time too. "Somebody help her. Help us!" You're helpless, both of you. All of us.
Do you know why they're called mok-gloves? Because they go up to your wrists(pal-mok).
I had a major motorcycle accident on CHIPs that gave me a 50-50 chance to live. I broke a lot of bones and fractured ribs and broken wrists.
It's linkage I'm talking about, and harmonies and structures, And all the various things that lock our wrists to the past.
Here's me opening my wrists before breakfast, Christmas day, and here's you asking if it hurt. Here's where I choose between mea culpa and Why the hell should I tell you?
Could you have seen that mother clinging to her child, when they fastened the irons upon his wrists; could you have heard her heart-rending groans, and seen her bloodshot eyes wander wildly from face to face, vainly pleading for mercy; could you have witnessed that scene as I saw it, you would exclaim, Slavery is damnable!
That was all he said, except for "Aaaeerrgghhh. " Which is not really a word. But the reason that he screamed "Aaaeerrgghhh" was that Franco had bitten him savegly on the wrist.
Why slap them on the wrist with feather when you can belt them over the head with a sledgehammer.
