The Fabric of My Life

I have been busy giving my studio the mother of all clear-outs.  This has culminated in one particularly long over-due task.

My love of colour and texture in all it’s many forms has resulted in a personal collection of assorted  ‘treasures’ that I have re-discovered in the course of my autumnal ‘spring’ clean.  These items range from numerous pieces of fabric from favourite bits of  clothing; wrapping present ribbons; beach finds; assorted string bags from supermarket-wrapped fruit; to patchwork scraps, sample fabric strips, netting, silks, gauzes, tapestry wools and buttons, that have been randomly squirreled away in drawer recesses or the bottom corners of storage boxes, now seeing the light of day from an astonishing array of plastic bags in varying stages of disintegration.

These seemingly trivial gems have all now been carefully sorted out and relegated to a category according to their colour.   For example, straw strands salvaged from flower arrangements and hessian binding from upholstery have been placed in the ‘neutral brown’ box; scraps from the hem of wedding dress silk in the ‘white’ box; I even have a box just for checquered and striped material such as ancient scarves I no longer wear, gingham shirts and the Designer Guild duvet cover my daughter used to have on her bed eons ago.

I can’t tell you what a thrill it gives me to catch a glimpse of these jewel-like colours in their new, see-through boxes, now neatly stacked up in my studio.  This rainbow represents not only a renewed satisfaction I experience as an artist in the harmonics of colour and texture but also as a very tangible, material memory of specific moments in my own life.