Underlying many moments of contemplating the art of craft is the tension between what I perceive of myself and my own reality. I really get a deep satisifaction from creating and making things (as many people do) and my medium is often stitching fabric or printing with ink. I suppose the sewing DNA is passed down through gene pool but it is also here that I get unstuck. I guess deep down I associate the 'homecrafts' somehow with either; women bonded in insufferable toil or the idealic 1950s housewife. Both seem to be ancient perceptions that don't sit comfortably with me.
And yet, the crafting gives me great satisfaction and is generally cheaper than therapy. So with all that floating in and out of the grey matter this is my latest offering to the Goddess of Craft... a pillow with alternating irony .
The front - is a reminder of how far humanity has evolved from draggin our knuckles to French Provincial Toile (in pink), or, alternatively, how under the skin of our advanced civilisation lies the neanderthal in all of us.
And the back is if your mother/grandmother/boss is coming around for dinner, simply turn the pillow around and you can maintain your happy housewife facade.