About Me… As a small child I spent a few years in Arnhem land and lots of time in central Australia, my journey was of a non-indigenous girl in a traditional culture, this is where I learnt the importance of arts and crafts in everyday life. My mother was always making, weaving and crafting and I could sew before I could read… Having left a corporate career behind me I now choose to make, I use traditional and experimental process based craft to explore and record my world.
I gather and experiment wherever I am. This gives my everyday life a voice, the stories around me of places, community and events, it connects me and gives my work a voice.
My Work… I work with pigments, textiles, fibre and wood, some of the work is functional and some of it is purely narrative. The process of the work is important to me, choosing a plant or technique and spending time to learn, immerse myself in experimenting and understanding the properties and subtleties. My preferred method is to create a body of work that is carefully constructed with various elements, all working together in a multitude of ways to share the story of process and place.
Me as a Mother… Constantly being in a frustrated state of balancing my creative pursuits, my own needs, and the family demands, provides the insight for my work. I have a burning desire to create, my bodies of work are punctuated by the rhythm of family life. Intense periods of work during school terms, put down and forgotten during holiday times. Then to be picked up with fresh hands and new eyes and renewed energy.
As an Artist… After 20 years in Sydney’s Urban environment, street art and stencilling have a big influence, and you can see this echoed in the simplified images in my narrative work. This also links to traditional indigenous art ie making marks to record surroundings and stories, is interwoven and juxtaposed in my own concepts, by using my surrounds to make marks on fabric. The paradox of ‘grafiting’ art with natural plant material onto natural fibres, is a concept I enjoy exploring.
Sometimes I call my work slow art, or chance art because of the ‘unknown, uncontrollable’ nature of the way in which it unfolds. I start with a preconceived idea, only to find that the materials I desire have been blown away in the last storm, or the season changed quicker than expected. So I stop and re-evaluate and really start to see what is available, then this is where I begin my work.