Textile

They are so personal, like a sense-memory. In the same way that scents can recall vivid yet undefinable moments of the past, patterns and textures etch themselves into my memory. Touch and material are a part of every second of our lives from birth to death.

They are never too big to move, too expensive to make, too indifferent to be left behind. Some twenty-or-so works are folded up neatly in a shoebox and follow me through all of my changing places. This little box, family within reach, my cat sleeping by my side, these are my Space and these are my Art. The Studio becomes irrelevant.