Wednesday, 9 September 2020

button sheet

I've been thinking about this work for a year or so, it's a daunting thing to begin. I'm hand stitching buttons onto a single sheet that was my mum's. It retains the scent of her favourite fabric conditioner 3 years 4 months after her death.

Week 1 

Monday, 31 August 2020

Wednesday, 29 July 2020

daughters of daughters

Second experiments with staging and photographing this piece, playing, seeing where/how it makes sense to me. Daughters of daughters comes into my head when thinking about it, so that may be the title. Tomorrow I'm taking the dresses into the Derbyshire landscape to see how it/they sits there.  

Monday, 20 July 2020

eight dresses

First experiments in hanging this (as yet untitled) work and beginning to understand what it does. Enjoyed its weight and the tension between each dress form. Plan to play further by taking this piece into the Derbyshire landscape. It's an unwieldy, slippery thing!

Monday, 6 July 2020

dress forms

All eight dress forms are finished in my current project to make a sculptural piece in organza. Each hand stitched and cut from a 1970's pattern. I'm unsure how I'll join them and intrigued to discover the process that will reveal itself as I make... More stitching, more ironing needed to complete this piece...   

Tuesday, 16 June 2020


I'm making a work thats been in my head for a while. I'm 6 dresses in (there will be 8), all cut from a 1970's pattern. The pattern cutting takes almost as long as the hand stitching of each dress, organza is so slippery it requires ironing and pinning into position in an attempt to stop distortion within the fabric before cutting. I decided to hand stitch the dresses, as each represents one of the seven generations of women before me, the women who birthed daughters who birthed daughters who birthed daughters and this line that stretches back to the first humans ends with me.   

Monday, 11 May 2020

knitted branches

Through trial and error I replicated these branches in hand knit, using double-point needles, increase and decrease. Knowing how to make a sock was a great advantage.

Working out how to do it through doing it. Carefully replicating each branches twists and undulations, unwinding and re-knitting one branch dissatisfied by the accuracy of my first efforts. Yarn passing twice though my fingers in slow, puzzled learning.

And, now these exist, soft, foldable, reminding me of snakeskin. What shedding happened as I made? What growth?

See previous post for images of the yarn pre-knit, it had been wrapped round trees in Epping Forest for 15 years.    

Thursday, 26 March 2020

tree/time dyed yarn

Two years ago I visited Epping Forest, near my childhood home and unwound acrylic yarn I'd wrapped around tree trunks 15 years before. See 15 years for reflections on that day.

Last week I went to my studio at Haarlem Artspace and collected plants, basic art materials and two projects I've been intending to work on - the yarn came home with me.

I'm finding it difficult to relate to my pre COVID-19 'to-do' lists and I'm resisting the upsurge of 'doing' all over social media BUT, think I can get my head and hands around making knitted branches using the tree/time dyed yarn.

Lets see what happens.

Images show the yarn, branches gathered in Matlock and an old set of double-point knitting needles.

Saturday, 22 February 2020

essex hawthorn

Beginning to organise my work for Print Fair 2020 at Nottingham Contemporary in March. A gang of us from Haarlem Artspace will be there - come and say hi.

My Essex Hawthorn linocut is of a tree I sat under as a child, I remember colouring in my flower fairy book under its branches. This memory is so vivid because I developed a painful migraine that afternoon and spent the rest of the day in the back bedroom with curtains drawn...

When I left London in 2018 and knew I'd not be walking past the tree anymore I took photos and created the linocut in Derbyshire, bridging then and now.

At times I doubt the impact my work may have, but had this challenged recently when a friend who'd bought a print said she has it above her desk and looks upon it daily. She uses the work as a gentle reminder about keeping healthy boundaries and this practice has had a deep effect in her life.

The hawthorn is adaptable and an amazing boundary keeper. When cut and tended it becomes an abundant hedgerow for wildlife and container of livestock and if left to its own devices grows into a beautiful gnarly tree. In either form it has leaves you can eat, May blossom and edible berries).

Hawthorn is my favourite tree and before we know it she will be signalling her presence in the hedgerow with her May blossom - white firework flashes that are particularly enjoyable from a speeding train window.

Friday, 10 January 2020

Wednesday, 8 January 2020


Hello 2020!

This is the last knit of my decade long project Close Knit. The idea developed early in 2009, the first knit photographed on the 21st August 2009 and the final on the 7th January 2020.

Determined to finish the project in 2019 I stayed in on New Years eve, knitting then sewing up the work, making the final stitch at 11.59pm. I'd intended to finish & photograph the knit in situ in December but train fares were high, so the next best thing was a booking in early January.

The journeys taken are part of the work, logistics, planning and physical travel to the burial sites - a small ritual. I wonder at the others travellers around me, what unseen rituals or pilgrimages are they participating in?