In this collection, originally for my MA dissertation, I take traumatic events our family went through and transform them, through creative activity, as a form of rehabilitation, thus reclaiming and redeeming them as well as myself. A Celtic design of a threefold cord, symbolizing the faith, hope and love that sustained me (although that is open to individual interpretation), forms a visual motif throughout the pieces. The titles are Bible verses that gave me strength during the hard times.
If I climb up to the heavens you are there. If I lie down in the grave you are there (reclaiming my father)
My father taught me astronomy on nightly dog walks by telling me the mythology behind the constellations. The Greek gods often rescued mortals from danger by placing them in the sky. Here I imagine my dad similarly delivered from dementia and immortalised, the dross of his decline burned away and the gold of his memory reclaimed, reburnished.
Every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good (reclaiming my mother)
This is the story of our family Christmas Pudding. Like one of those blogs where you scroll and scroll to find the actual recipe but there’s a whole history to get through first. This is the story of a recipe taught and shared beyond our family. And that tradition continues in this piece made from found words in my mother’s letters and her favourite recipe books. This is the story of nearly a century of handing down not only a recipe but faith and values. This is the story of my mother, whose generosity lives on.
I will restore the years the locusts have eaten (reclaiming my son)
Locusts can breed abundantly and form swarms that rapidly strip fields and damage crops. They have brought famine and disaster on humankind since prehistory.
Bipolar had a similar devastating effect during his undergraduate years on my son and our family. Using a textbook from his degree, this piece seeks to explore my experience of that devastation whilst holding onto the promise of the title. Colours, words and topics from the textbook are deliberately chosen to reflect on the whole experience from trauma to restoration.
He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge (reclaiming me)
A prayer shawl is a gift, prayed over while it is knitted for the recipient. The shawl holds and hugs the wearer, surrounds them with love and comfort. The words on this shawl I made are some of what encouraged and comforted me during difficult times. The gift of others’ love and faith can be a covering for our hurts and scars, like a hen gathering up her chicks under her wing. Viewers are invited to take any they need or add their own.
For I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans to prosper you, to give you hope and a future (reclaiming my family)
I’ve long been fascinated with the beauty of ancient illuminated manuscripts, which add light and understanding to their texts. This piece seeks to illuminate in a modern way the experience of mental illness, a subject close to my heart.
It would be easy to depict mental illness or cognitive impairment as purely terrible afflictions, something to be fought against. Or genetic and inescapable. And whilst lamenting or railing against suffering is a healthy and loving response, it is not the whole story. With kindness, there is also hope, learning, and beauty to be found – illumination.
In my Father’s house are many mansions (reclaiming the future)
Initially I saw this piece depicting the future hope of heaven after death. But as I studied the theology of the title verse and the etymology of the words, I found the Biblical idea of eternity is a more integrated vision of ‘a new heaven and a new earth’, in the now and after death, and I have tried to acknowledge this complementarity in this work. For example, the audio is a recording of birdsong from our garden, a piece of ‘home’ which my husband took into hospital with him when he had surgery during the pandemic, but it also references my father’s sermon about how he visualised Heaven after death.
All the days of my hard service I will wait for my renewal to come (reclaiming never ends)
This piece takes two ancient traditions and integrates them with my Christian faith.
My family have long celebrated a Christian version of Passover at Easter. This is a dinner setting from that Night with words taken from part of the Haggadah (Passover service) and elaborated on.
The dinner setting has been broken and repaired with kintsugi. Kintsugi or ‘golden repair’ is a Japanese art based on valuing imperfection, mending and beautifying breaks in ceramics so they become even more precious, and for me points to the similar ongoing work of reclamation God is doing. It takes months of painstaking work to do a true kintsugi repair but this piece shows how even a clumsy novice attempt can bring beauty to brokenness.