“Those we love and have lost are no longer where they were; Now they are where we are” - Saint Augustine
The theme for the Creativity and Wellbeing Week festival this year, New Horizons, has given me the chance to reflect on shifting horizons and the challenges in navigating unplanned changes both in my creative practice and personal life.
As a participatory artist working mainly in textiles, I endeavour to put those with whom I engage, at the front and centre of all projects. Success to me, is when everyone who has been part of a project can see themselves reflected in every stage of the process or end result, whether it is an exhibition, a textile hanging or banner, or a collection of work. I have worked hard to craft a creative career alongside my role as a social worker, and I draw on theories and methods of intervention to occupy a space that sits comfortable between the two worlds of artist and mental health professional. Themes of tackling inequality, sexism, misogyny, racism and injustice thread through my participatory work, and I am at my most comfortable when encouraging others to talk and use their experiences to inform our creative relationship. I happily curate and manage that space. Having recently experienced the loss of my Mum and Dad, however, I now realise that I have needed to be less of a facilitator and more of a consumer and occupier of this space in order to be kind, and allow myself the space to breathe, reset and observe the shifting horizons.
During February and March of this year, I was on residency at New Art Exchange, Nottingham as the recipient of the RESIDE award. It had taken us over 12 months to finalise the dates for the 8-week residency. Initially planned for early 2024, I had grand plans for bringing my energy to the space to create some large-scale textile pieces, culminating in a show. But life took a sharp turn in March 2024 when firstly my Dad, Jim, and then shortly after, my Mum Doreen, passed leaving me in a state of emptiness and sadness like no other. I spent the next few months, as so many bereaved families do, sorting through years of their stuff whilst processing my own feelings. When I came to undertake the residency, I opted to bring the memory of Jim and Doreen with me, and I surrounded myself with their archive photos, clothes, political posters, books, music cassette tapes and even the contents of my Dad’s spice cupboard. By bathing all of my senses in the essence of them both, I slowly began to allow myself that time and space to celebrate them quietly and contemplate how we go on preserving their spirits and souls.
Simultaneously, I had started a large scale participatory textile piece for the Grenfell Tower Memorial Quilt and had sent a Call Out across social media for 72 volunteer crafters to create a bird each, honouring the 72 people who passed in the fire in 2017. The creation, and project management of the mammoth 12 feet square quilt has been a powerful vehicle for me to focus my strength and energy and to work with the most welcoming, accepting and gentle souls on earth! The kindness of strangers, united to create exquisite birds with such depth of sensitivity and respect has been both overwhelming and comforting at the same time. Sitting alone in the studio at NAE for those 8 weeks, sewing a gilded bird cage onto the “Grenfell fabric” surrounded by the archive of my Mum and Dad was a cathartic and transformational experience. The members of the Grenfell Quilt group, notably Tuesday Greenidge and her team, and the 72 creatives, have unknowingly pulled me through the darkest period of my adult life.
The response to our contribution to the national project has been immense with over 630,000 views and 72,000 likes on Instagram. It is currently on show at the Trienalle Milano 24th International Exhibition in Italy as part of a multi disciplinary 7 month programme of exhibitions, talks, conferences and installations that questions the global challenges – from the economic to the ethnic, from geographical origin to gender.
Reflecting back, and gazing upon the shifting horizons before me, I am slowly and kindly navigating my way through to the new stage in my life and career. The beauty and transformational nature of creativity has pulled me through, and I am sailing steadily on…and on…X
For more information about Jane and her work as a participatory artist, you can visit her website here