My work is a protest against the way textiles are consumed in western society. Tired of a world in which clothes are produced and thrown away without thought to the consequences; where the fashion industry and media impose identities on us. My rebellion is to go back to slower processes, embrace tradition, salvage the discarded, fix the broken.
In my weaving and embroidery I explore the potential of the forgotten, overlooked and abandoned. I revel in discovering humble fabrics like calicos and cottons; the more worn, faded and story-laden the better. I take time to imagine the history of each piece, examining its hues, tones and frays, allowing its imperfections to become part of the work.
The Power of the Unspoken
“Your work is too beautiful to be rebellious.”
I have thought about those words for a long time.
Perhaps we have become accustomed to thinking that challenging art has to be loud. Bold. Shouty. Confrontational. That it has to announce itself so there is no mistaking what it is saying.
But I don’t believe it has to look like that.
Perhaps there is something far more powerful in making work that is fragile, ethereal and quietly beautiful.
Work that doesn’t state the obvious.
Work that doesn’t tell you what to think.
Work that draws you in rather than shouting at you from across the room.
Beauty can disarm us.
Fragility can make us look more closely.
Silence can sometimes say more than shouting.
Perhaps the most radical thing is to create something beautiful.
Something you have to look for.
Something you might not see at first.
Something quietly resistant.