Notes of citrus atop a broody blend of moss, resins, and amber. Worrywart exudes emotion-angst, anxiety, and energy. The olfactory delight of old books and paper positioned alongside an alluring abstraction of pheromones, inks and vivid whispers of niche knowledge, and forgotten craftsmanship.
An homage to the broody artist. A memorialisation of the first step, in all its anguish and glory. Empty bottles of cheap merlot. Papers and materials scattered across every working surface. Will it all be worth it?
Worrywart is an ode to the inner turmoil of chasing purpose. ‘There are [those] who are paralyzed by the combination of two emotions. One an inferiority complex that convinces them something is beyond their ability and the other a sense of pride that tells them there is no need for them to even attempt it in the first place.’ Yohji Yamamoto, My Dear Bomb.
