WOMEN AT WORK
THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT OF HAY FEVER AND EMERDALE.
This work began with a realisation and a general anger, as most of my work does.
When I was younger I had bad hayfever, the kind even the armband can’t fix. I was often brought home from school with my eyes swollen. My summers were spent inside with my Granny and my Mam. Between the two, they taught me how to knit, cross-stitch, and embroider.
Some of my fondest memories are sitting on the couch with my Granny watching Emerdale or Judge Judy or Jeremy Kyle and knitting. For what felt like years, I worked on a lumpy, misshappen scarf, that altered colour every 5 rows when I got bored of the wool. The textures were different, it could be cotton for 12 rows, acrylic for 6, wool for 10. I remember bringing it to my opticians appointment and other people’s Grannies sitting across from me and saying “isn’t she some woman ” . It was hideous, I never even wore it, but I loved it.
I had no idea my hay fever and a love for spending quiet time with the women in my family would influence me so much. That without these memories, these womens, their skills, and Judy, I probably would be a lawyer.
AN UNFORTUNATE DIAGNOSIS
In late 2024 , I was diagnosed with a chronic pain disorder called Fibromyalgia. I was told there was no particular treatment, cure, medication, or thing that would improve it.
After years, and years, and years, of thinking I was lazy for being so exhausted, that my pain was somehow my fault; for either doing nothing or doing too much of something, I was finally told it wasn’t my fault.
I was left with questions as to how it would impact my practice. I worked typically with screen-printing and sculpture, both quite physically demanding processes. I had to change the way I worked or I would be unable to sustain myself and my practice.
So, I went back to the start. Craft and the women of my family. I wanted to make something that highlighted the importance of these skills and the people who had them.
A GENERAL ANGER
I was angry that craft, specifically textile craft like crochet and knitting, were so often dismissed. I wanted to do something to show their value, but also the value of the women who teach them and pass these skills down. Show how these supposedly “isolated” hobbies can be such a phenomenal example of community.
These were skills that kept families going, that soothed those in pain, and provided a moment of stillness in a world insistent on consumption and production. The results weren’t just objects; they were intricate, beautiful pieces that told a story.
I was interested in crochet specifically, how it has it’s own language. A language that is absent of insults and bias, that creates something warm and soft.
The craft circles and communities generated from these skills was my next area of interest. Usually associated with isolated spinsters of 100+ years, I was dedicated to document evidence to the contrary. I wanted to showcase that the people involved in these communities are vibrant and full of life. They are amazing hubs of socialisation that often allowed difficult conversations to be had without judgement.
When trying to search for information about craft on the Island of Ireland I could only find information about the actual materials, but not about the women who made these work, who they taught and who taught them.
This was insane to me given that running downstairs past my bed time so that my Mam could cast off my very circular looking knitting square was one of the, if not the biggest reason I remained creative.
I was dedicated to do something to preserve these skills and stories, and that’s where “Women At Work” started.
CRYING OVER AN EMAIL
I would wager there isn’t one artist in Ireland, maybe even the world, that hasn’t cried over an email, whether it’s good or bad news.
One of my biggest obstacles with this work was the imposter syndrome I was dealing with. Going into a new practice methodology, archiving, just graduated and (insert 10+ more anxieties) I couldn’t stop thinking:
“Who am I to ask these women for their stories?”
“Who am I to make an archive about this?”
“Who would even care?”
But luckily, it turned out all I had to do was ask, people did care, people not only cared but wanted to take part, they were excited! They were willing to listen to me rant about craft, language, and day-time soap operas.
The words of encouragement I recieved from my mentors, my peers, family, friends, and communities taking part was more than enough motivation to get the ball rolling.
I parked my anxieties, it wasn’t going to make the work me.
GUIDE TO SENDING AN EMAIL
1. Ruminate
2. Draft in the notes app
3. Send the draft to your mom and dad to proofread
4. Explain what socially engaged art is to your Mom and Dad
5. Question whether it should be more formal or informal.
6. Send a formal and informal version to your Mom and Dad.
7. Discuss over family dinner the general vibe of the email and whether its acceptable.
8. Send “final final draft” to your siblings.
9. Explain what socially engaged art is to your siblings.
10. Prepare yourself.
11.1. Send the email.
11.2. Hope for the best.
If you would like to donate a story, a skill, an object, or a work in progress related to the themes of this work please contact me and you can also be added to this project!
