Merriam-Webster defines Husk as" a usually dry or membranous outer covering ... of various seeds and fruits..." It expands to "an outer layer, an emptied shell, or a supporting framework."  
 
Being born in a body with organs that define a biological purpose (reproduction) for the human species has often felt confusing. For several reasons, I have not lived up to the evolutionary agreement that my gender has determined. The time to perform this duty has come, and now it is leaving. When I was able to bring life into this world, I didn't feel attached to the part of my body and mind that craved to nurture and grow another human. This part of me felt numb, weird, and alone. As a nulliparous woman nearing fallowness, I, for the first time, feel connected to myself and my biological gender more than ever.  Husk was composed to honor this time in life. The dry, husklike linen-undulating shapes weave my feminity into its current state. The pale madder on wool is an enduring coral that still evokes beauty, harmony, and strength. 
 
The linen materials in this piece spurred out of the Flax to Linen project. It was a part of Iris Sullivan Daire's show Madder Reds: Nurturing Interconnection.