I’ve always had a soft spot for matchboxes, because they were always around to play with when I was growing up. With a pipe smoking father, the supply seemed to be endless. When my father was diagnosed with lung cancer my feelings towards the matchboxes changed. The projects I previously used them for seemed too frivolous. I started embroidering different kinds of lungs in the matchboxes until I found a version that felt right. The bronchi that split into bronchioles resemble growing tree branches, which I think my father – who was a biologist – would have found a nice parallel.
I’ve always loved the slow and meditative process of needlework, but it also turned out to be a good activity during a period of grief. To convert it into something tangible, then close the matchbox and move on to the next one.
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2023 – now
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