I grew up with a first edition set of Dickens books. Tissue paper like pages and illustrations of Satis House and Miss Havisham. Disintegration, deterioration, changes through time. Distortion of materials due to environment, climate, or forced changes by my hand appeal to me greatly.
Miss Havisham clings to a memory, her past. Time stands still. She cant let go, move forward. She is stuck.
Papers and fabrics discolored, eroded and made different by the elements and found by roadsides and on beaches. Bright and new made tarnished through age. Hopes and dreams turned inward and frozen in time.
There is beauty to be seen in discarded things. I use the discarded, the forgotten and unwanted. I am constantly looking for and finding objects which I recycle, stitch and tear to make beautiful again.