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What I should really be doing is getting ready to go to work.
Putting my face on so I don’t scare the children.

What I find myself doing is stretching my feet across the coffee table, slurping tea and contemplating the narratives available to me through making certain choices: I want to submit some work to Wolverhampton’s Junction festival this summer. I would like to select a few bras. Of the ten I made, one is pinned to Dan’s studio wall, one is destined to be submitted to the Jerwood, and one is in a glass case at Mac Birmingham.

I would like to choose a combination that perhaps could tell a different story. By picking the right ones, I could change the tale… Or place a focus on a small part of the bigger picture.

And so I make myself a list of what I’ve got….













Fuck off

So, I need to select a few to tell a story…