drop of a seed
✹ drag me from the soil ✹ hold me to the sun ✹
I rode my bike through the unmarked roads of my home town deep in the norfolk countryside.
The unescapable height of the summer sun encompassing every ligament, evoking no shadow.
I was tired of london, the over flowing political bubble, the closeness of its air and people.
Tabards are of interest to me as a garment, intwined in social structures and idenity.
Historically worn by peasents it now appears practical in material and message.
In protection (bullet proof vests), warmth (undergarments in war) or visually (school dinner ladies).
I was initially drawn to the tabard through The Kibbo Kift, a group aspiring for social reform, peace and understanding.
Founder Roger Hargraves stated “the future belonged only to us, the young, who were going to build a better one”.
I see many comparisons between early left wing socialist movements and the 2016 election, the autenticity
of voice and how to communicate a message that will build trust and awareness.
Handcrafted using the process of rug hooking, a craft historically used to produce domestic passive pieces.
As a worn piece, it becomes a tool for subversion, bold and assertive.
Once worn on the body, its an object of warmth and protection, a piece to be worn in protest.