Going Black, Going Slow

Deeply ensconced within the cavern of the Black in Fashion exhibit, I feel as though I have been suspended in thick tar. Darkly brooding music is draped over my shoulders like the German embroidered cape, dimly lit behind glass.

This is a stark contrast to my loud, brash, hectic life.

Working in a call centre, every minute is calculated and accounted for. There is a desperate need to keep each call between 165 and 200 seconds to maximise call volumes and help the greatest number of clients possible. At work, even bathroom breaks are timed. So I headed to the NGV with the express intention of taking things slow.

In the dark corridors of this exhibit, time stands still. The shrouds and gowns of mourning represent frozen moments in time. Within the small confines, night has descended, making one forget the daily rigours left outside in the harsh daylight.

Night brings tranquillity and a slowness that is lacking from my every day; immediately I am stilled. I move slowly from piece to exquisitely crafted piece, shuffling my feet as though sleepwalking. Today I am wearing red, but for now, my blood has stilled and in the slowness of breath, I find tranquillity.

by guest, Teague Leigh