All that matters is this moment and that's already gone, yet it's through links to that moment with which we decipher our 'now': that simultaneous, gut-flipping, happy/sad tension that being reminded - through photographs, possessions, words - of a time you'll never have again brings. And not necessarily for the thing itself but because that thing reminds you of all the other pieces that are gone, but that your brain needs to hold onto to make you what you are.
Moulded sugar, wire, string, chain. Installed at Newhaven Fort in the Laboratory, where ammunition was weighed out. The sugar used for the 'bombs' was measured to correspond to the WW2 ration for an adult over the scheduled time of the exhibition. My grandad - who had such a sweet tooth - served in WW2. He was also dripping away during this time.
Badges awarded to successful, curious lone wolf spotters who are now part of the pack. Have You Seen This Wolf?
Her cardigan, her embroidery thread. Not a designer label, but priceless.
Dead Betty's used tissues, perspex cubes. Haphephobia is the fear of being touched. This sculpture is made to be felt.
Hand made/stitched gloves made from used paper hand towels. Haphephobia is the fear of being touched. This sculpture is made to be felt, tried on, ripped, damaged, used.
Hair rings: my own hair, collected boxes. Becoming whole through interaction. Becoming broken through interaction.