Original poetry is featured in some textiles, capturing the essence of a subject, providing an emotional layering to works. Some textiles are snippets identifying an experience ('These are the things that make me feel full' and 'A spirit untamed'). And some extracts provide titles, setting the scene ('The buzzing of bees' and 'Skeletal frames').
Poetry is hand embroidered in silk threads and wool, providing additional texture and colour.
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Standing proud, little jewels adorn the washing line, waiting for me to set them free. They leap and twirl like acrobats of the high trapeze. Silver threads catch every bit of light that comes my way, and I hear them giggle in anticipation of the day.
The hunt for brightly patterned eggs and church bands parading throughout South Shields, with banners high and trumpets loud. So it was in my day.
As vivid and refreshing now as Mam's homemade lemonade.
PASTRIES FOLDED HIGH TO RISE
The buzzing of bees and a lazy bluebottle hum a distant tune as sunshine sparkles and glints its way into every single room.
Best china sits in regal splendour 'mongst a thick perfume as, pink cheeked with oven heat, we take our seats to feast upon the delights of a lovely afternoon.
I MISS THE LIVELY HEARING AIDS
The throng of family to a child is indeed a most wonderful thing.
I miss the lively hearing aids, busy pinnies serving homemade bakes. Wispy chins of a bygone age. Lipsticks chattering, high-pitched squeals. Bottom drawers, precious things.
White tablecloths, handmade, decorative lace. Linen napkins to be placed. Silverware adorning a table laid. Crystal jugs housing milk and cream. Perfumed roses holding centre stage.
The ticking of time as we embrace the auld folks of Shields.
THE BUZZING OF BEES (snippets from PASTRIES FOLDED HIGH TO RISE)
The buzzing of bees
And a lazy bluebottle
Hum a distant tune
As sunshine sparkles
And glints its way
Into every single room.
Take on the shape of old bones,
Brittle and cold.
Climb inside. Curl up. Lay your head
And slide into favourite old nursery rhymes,
Tattered now and tired.
Aged, faded with time.
Saturated with smiles.
Now return to your child.
THESE ARE THE THINGS THAT MAKE ME FEEL FULL (snippets)
To climb inside a world where angels and fairies dwell.
Dressing up in Mam's old shoes, tottering, feeling very grown.
You reign supreme in your domain of makeshift tents and sandcastles.
Waking with dreams still in your grasp, relishing the threads as they dwindle and pass.
Winter nighties, truly bold. Hot water bottles burning toes.
Aunties with their treats in store, pinnies bold, lipstick galore.
Always new concoctions to try, fermenting rose petals in jam jars nearby.
Rags in hair trussed up at night to give you bold new curls
The perfect ballerina in pale pink ballet shoes.
With Santa and the Tooth Fairy yours to keep forever.
Creeping downstairs for midnight feasts. On a mission for party treats. The fridge a magnet for little feet.
Wispy hair in cotton smocks.
A SPIRIT UNTAMED (snippets)
A spirit untamed
With sparkling eyes and gappy smiles.
Smarties in a little box.
Soft pink toes and button nose.
Baking mud pies under summer skies.
Building blocks in bobble socks.
Carrot tops and flowerpots.
THE TRINKET BOX
A magical merry-go-round
Of beautiful horses
And dancing gazelle
In shades of pastel
And cotton candy