When an idea strikes it’s a magical moment. It feels like a bolt of lightning has struck me when my subconscious says that my energy, spirit and emotion are at one and ready to begin the creation of a work of art.

The relationship between myself and my work is intense and frequently all-consuming. The struggle to find the courage to start a piece is something I always forget about once I have made my final stitch, which I call ‘the wizard stroke’, and the work finds its own voice. Forgotten is the pain, the emotional tussle, the discipline and the concentration to work hour after hour, often on tiny details.

The starting point, that moment when I begin a work of art, is crucial. Sometimes the timing just isn’t right. It’s difficult to explain but delaying beginning by a day or two can make all the difference as to how a piece evolves. Waiting for the right moment is such an important part of my creative process. I need the time to think thoroughly about what I am about to do; take time to hold the idea in my mind’s eye until I feel confident and comfortable with it. Then and only then is it time to begin.

My working practice involves a number of different stages. I always begin with colouring my natural fabrics and yarns. This is the dye stage and when the relationship starts to build between the textile and myself, a hugely exciting part of creation and key to the process. Drawing from within my memory of colour combinations and a little bit of happenstance, I build a body of fabric: silks, wools, linens and cottons in contrasting colours and soft hues. Just as the painter mixes oil paints to create their palette, I create mine in diverse fabrics and colours. I am a painter who paints with fabric.

No matter which medium I am working with, the series of actions which follow deepen my relationship with the work. Sometimes it is hand embroidery or machine embroidery, and sometimes it is weaving or painting. Though more often it is a combination of a number of different methods which are needed to create the desired textured surfaces. Regularly moving from the sewing machine, canvas, or my lap, to seeing the work on the wall, I assess where I am at with the piece and how I feel about its progression. This is the intuitive stage, the point at which my relationship is at its strongest, as I feel my way forward following my heart.

My process of art and craft is a concentrated, complex and time-consuming practice. It is a constant re-evaluation of my decisions as I hear the voice of doubt in my head but then remember to follow my heart. I know if something is right, I feel it deep within. I know that, after all my struggles, I have mastered the art of creation.