The material goods we collect, use and abandon can speak of desire, hope and loss. If we step outside of our familiarity and dismissal of such objects, we can begin to appreciate them as artefacts and consider their value beyond monetary worth. The importance of things is exemplified in the collections that routinely furnish domestic worlds but also in the items we purchase in moments of upheaval. In response to death and birth we look for ways to channel grief or joy, and to alleviate loss of control.
In a cemetery, mass-produced creatures reveal the presence and absence of those who mourn. Sentinels to keep forgetting at bay, fighting the inadequacy of a neat, etched plaque. In the nearby homes of new parents, surfaces become cluttered with products bought to lessen the anxiety that comes with caring for a new being. Bpa-free nipples, spoons and teethers. A mound of easily lost, thrown, disposable, sterilised plastic that seems necessary in order to fix feeding, sleeping, or sanity.
Making becomes my way to meditate on the role of material culture. The time spent looking at, drawing and sculpting the everyday discloses a significance that belies our readiness to discard. The transformation into fragile ceramic material, subject to cracking and warping, mirrors a state of mind, a portrait of the self. By foregrounding the emotional context of material culture, my work invite others to engage with this collection and to share their own narratives.