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Selected Works


Relative Narratives - Tallinn Art Hall Gallery 2014

With Anne Daniela Rodgers

The belief in our ability to protect our children is a deep fundamental delusion which we share.  I belong to a generation who can say that the world and society which we leave to our offspring may not be such a good place as was left to us by our parents, both environmentally and socio-politically, even though our technological advances have been rapid and extreme.  Those in power, and many who are not so powerful, have traded in human values for something as common as money.  If not a nightmare it certainly is a bad dream for me.

 When I was young the pawn shop was a part of poor, working class society where many placed in hock their things of meagre value in the hope of better days to come.  Its sign was traditional, clear and visible offering no illusion as to its services.   While the men were away at sea and the women fell on hard times their men-folk’s suits and shoes and watches went in pawn in order to survive until the men docked with pay in their pockets.  Then the kids would rush to the pawnshops, tickets and money clenched in their hands, to retrieve the stuff before dad even entered the front door.Poor people tend to be honest and redeem their debts including the broker’s interest regardless of the struggle, hopeful that life will get better.

 Here is a pawn shop of sorts.


When my children were born I was overwhelmed with memories. A whole frond of colours, smells, perceptions, feelings opened up.  There were beautiful and carefree events, sojourns, dreams and wonders yet at the same time feelings of helplessness, painful insults, shame and fear also rose to the fore in addition to misunderstandings about nationality which had surfaced.  At some moment, probably connected with raising my children, these memories became dimmed. Looking back became tedious, self contemplation tiring, comparison pointless. Conditions forced me to concentrate on coping with the present.  Therefore I am amazed at with what intensity these works flowed out from me.  It was an uncontrollable, frothing surge.  Completely irrational and intuitive.  A world created by the child reawakened in me, collected experience both from the past and future – the raising of my own children – everything mixed together, made up and played out.

Why should this growing out of childhood take such an awful long time?

Anne Daniela

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