In March/April 2009 the luscious, collectable magazine Selvedge did an issue themed “Frugal”. It dwelt on the domestic (mattress ticking and how to iron a shirt) A touching article showed ordinary garments that out of necessity had been mended again and again and again. Something I assume was a little girl’s white underdress had a dozen fastidious repairs. The repairs had been embroidered to look like flowers. It had such weight, affection for the child, respect for the garment. A dignity and resourcefulness scarce in our T-shirt-for-two-pounds sterling time.
And so to Sarah Wilson and her mono prints and etchings (Winnie and I met her at the Norwich Print Fair) The shapes are bold, but the threads and stitches so finely delineated the pictures have the luminescence of things seen on microscope slide. Normally when I see art I like, I feel a whoosh of emotional uplift, I want to swim around in the colours. Sarah’s work left me thoughtfully quiet, seeing the things I felt about being a mum reflected in her prints.