21/10/2026
This commission for JW ANDERSON has been spent thinking about the big man. October marks 16yrs since he died. He remains as present with me today as ever.
His gift of basketmaking is profound.
I daydream of being with him again, not as people but as old trees. Wizened with stories and time, the leaves on our boughs occasionally brush together in strong winds. Two ents rooted side by side. Together.
When asked about Dad, grief generally finds expression through the prose of a Neanderthal’s grunt.
Words sit layered and heavy on my tongue, so many words, a tome wedged between my lips.
I find solace in my shed. I am forever my father’s scholar. He believed in me, always.
I hope my children feel this.
To still wrap me in love all these years later, surely (don't call me Shirley) is some other worldly parenting goal!
I won the lottery with my Mum & Dad🌿
