Wine
I then became intrigued by the materiality of the very substance I was trying to avoid. Kneeling on my bathroom floor with a bottle of red wine in my hand (red wine because that is what I craved the most during those 28 days), I began to spill, spatter, stain and soak.
The action of tipping over a wine glass produced my most successful ‘stain’. I am in control over where that glass is positioned, but the directionality of the liquid, and thus the mark it leaves behind, is left up to chance.