With knitted glass, people look and then they look again. That’s what every artist dreams of. If somebody looks twice at your work. They’re actually seeing it. They’re not just seeing what their mind tells them that it is, and putting it in a category and walking away. That’s a big deal.
I’ve made quite a lot of horrors for small children, all sorts of things: lots of hats and bootees; a few quite bad animals including a memorable wonky Donkey …
A few years ago I was the only frame knitter left, with 20 machines to use. It takes months and months of practice, slowly building up, to learn how to do one thing and gain control over the machine. I started building up a team of enthusiasts from scratch that’s now up to 7-8 people.
Now I want to knit with dusters, as part of the Domestic dusters project that I’ve been running since 2014. I chose a duster because it hasn’t been adorned like aprons or tea towels. I initially created a set of dusters with fairy tales on, then opened it up to see if other people wanted to contribute to the project. It sort of hasn’t stopped since then.
The three of us would sit and knit together and you had this clack of needles going constantly. I used to sit at my mum’s or my grandmother’s feet, and they would scratch my back with their knitting needles.