I’m a Nana and I knit and sometimes crochet too
I’ve clothed myself and all my mob, I never seem to rest.
The booties small, the snug wool vest, a cardigan to die for
A pair of gloves, a knee rug and a scarf to cross the chest.

As women gather round to chat out come the wool and needles
Choose the pattern, count the stitch and analyse the news.
Thus it always has been, like round the guillotine
just like the stitch, herstory, repeats the same strong views.

Who is in, who is out and who is just daft tosser
The kids, the job, the money and who just knows the score.
Who knows where the bodies are buried ?
We’ve heard it all before.

Our names to Landcare noted, we saved the bush and voted.
It’s time to start a new row now …. to rib, to seed to cable
As knit we must and so eat too, one stitch, one step, one dinner
To stop the rot, to keep the faith and save the water table.

Me mum made socks through two world wars
Her uncle’s and her son’s kit
She sheared the sheep and washed the wool
and combed and spun and wound it.

The son shot down on German soil did not return
He lies amongst his cousins
The socks did though, I have them still
The toe darned … one of dozens.

This new world war is global now and Corporations rule
Our land is scarred with many holes and strains to meet our need
“Lock the gate” became the cry echoed round the planet.
Water is our human right …. NO RIGHT OF WAY ….to greed.



installed in the Incinerator Gallery Moonee Ponds. 2016.



2017 October ..November …  ? …

Still from video in production for the Get up same sex marriage poll October 2017.

PRESS RELEASE .In a previous life as a community art worker I installed public art over several decades in Western Sydney uniting local residents in activities to express multicultural, environmental, historical and domestic issues as they became noteworthy.


I also volunteered on the AIDS quilt assisting prisoners make memorial panels.

The rainbow banner at my studio in Middlemeade evolved from this history, not in protest to the Church response to same sex marriage but by way of celebrating the depth and diversity of the human spirit .This flawed process, imposed by an incompetent government is a cruel hoax as it divides communities and families but as an artist I just document the journey.
My movie footage of the yard of rainbow fabric from spotlight flying in the sunshine pegged to the existing Tibetan prayer flags might see the bells silenced by a black cloud of veiling or the final scene may well be the first same sex marriage in Glen Innes held in the rotunda in in the park … the answer my friend is blowing in the wind.


Left “PUTTING TOGETHER THE PIECES” an early embroidered self portrait using a  photo for a patchwork template made for an exhibition I curated for the Embroiderer’s guild of NSW of self portraits by fibre artists.

Right “PUBERTY” My daughter’s eye in a Suffolk puff made for international miniature textile exhibition (not chosen)


I have been experimenting with space dyed yarn  for decades and developed a course of three outreach (by mail) classes titled “A CHARACTER CALLED HUE”  for The EMBROIDERER’S GUILD OF NSW & “TEXTILE FIBRE FORUM” magazine.


Made for Minerama Festival

experiments with space dyed yarn 



“MAKING WAVES”  As the coral bleaches I remember holidaying in the sixties on beaches along the Queensland coastline. The spit at Southport, where my dad was a lifesaver on weekends, Stradbroke, Moreton and Bribie Islands, Caloundra and occasionally Fraser Island. My grandchildren now continue the tradition.
The fish my father used to catch every day are diminishing in number and species, garbage floats on the surface of the Coral Sea, and whaling, though it ceased to be a local industry, (I remember the day trip to watch the butchering on Moreton) has persisted from Japanese ships through fifty years of protest.

Knitting this I remember the colours and textures and refracting light through a glass bottomed boat while honeymooning on Brampton Island
The stitch is traditionally called feather and fan but could just as easily be an impressionist yarn painting of waves breaking on the shore bringing in with them the memory of, corals, fish, seaweed, shells long gone ….from the palest through the brightest hues, to the darkest of shadows.

Yarn used is ironically plastic (acrylic) imported from China in the many space dyed colours I have collected for over a decade, cheap as chips.
The threads ‘left blowing in the wind’ are the hope that rescue for our Great Barrier Reef is possible and a tribute to constant vigilance and environmental protest against dredging for ports, runoff from farms and burning of fossil fuel contributing to global warming.

Dedicated to the spirit of the Rainbow Warrior, Greenpeace
and most of all the Pacific Island people as custodians.




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