The Crone – lastr of the triptych, unfinished, constantly on the process because I don’t yet know exactly who she is or what she looks like, inspired by my grandmother, the loss and guilt I felt after she passed away suddenly 2 months after my wedding, at the age of 74. She was always an inspiration, extremely creative artistic soul able to knit, crochet, mend and embroider anything one could imagine trapped in a body and difficult war and post war times as a single mother unable to go to university in post communist Poland, sacrificing everything to raise her daughter and granddaughter, helping me realise all my crazy fashion ideas when I had my own brand, troubled from years of neurosis, anxiety attacks and narcolepsia. This piece is about my guilt after “leaving grandma” to travel the world, start my own family and life in the UK, after she passed away feeling both guilty but also like she never left me, like we always had this magical connection as I inherited her passion for hand crafts and only now at 40, aging, feeling like I want to get back to it, liek working with my habds and thread resurrects a sort of magical thread, connection I have with her, like when I’m holding a needle and thread time collapses and I am her for that brief moment. I want to understand and connect to the wisdom she wanted to share, weaving and stitching and crocheting pieces we could have collaborated on together if only she waited for my kids to grow up a little and my head is back in the creative space she encouraged in me. This piece is an asolute experiment, a fridge door painted in acrylics and left lying in difficult hot conditions for months, maybe 3, maybe 4, rediscovered by me as I’m approaching the end of the other two pieces, adding a pre war tablecloth that belonged to my grandmothers family, precious and delicate, dripping under the weight of glue like a delicate wrinkled face carrying the weight of the life passed.
The duality of feeling inspired by her and not wanting to end up sad and lonely like she did. That said mum and I were with her until the very last moment when she was dying and choking, I was sitting next to her and she was leaning her head on my shoulder while slowly loosing her breath.
