When I was growing up, my mother was adamant that durags were only to be worn inside the house – never out in public. I generally say durag now, but back home we called them wave caps. So I made this sculpture. I can never be certain of my impulses but I thought it was about access (or the lack thereof ), about an inside and an outside – that the central thematic tension was between the front of it and the back. Then I re-read Edouard Glissant’s Poetics of Relation and noticed a little glyph he’d drawn in a footnote that I hadn’t seen before. It suggested the possibility of a second tension between right (east) and left (west).