19/03/2026
Inspired by the moment Ophelia, the tragic victim of patriarchal oppression, distributes her flowers to the court, I’ve made another paper cut collage from real marbled paper.
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Ophelia’s coded reflection on moral corruption resonates sharply right now- I just watched Louis Theroux’s doc so have a million thoughts buzzing around. I’ve never wanted to teach Hamlet more. (Shakespeare’s tragedies are the things I loved teaching most, and miss most.)
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So these are the flowers she hands out, not the ones she drowned with.
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There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance. Pray you, love,
remember. And there is pansies, that’s for thoughts.
There’s fennel for you, and columbines. There’s rue for you,
and here’s some for me. We may call it herb of grace o’ Sundays.
O, you must wear your rue with a difference! There’s a daisy. I
would give you some violets, but they wither’d all when my father
died. They say he made a good end.
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Finally hitting a stride.
