The Light of Day
In 1995, pregnant with twins, I inherited a collection of glassware from an Aunt. With nowhere to store the collection of fifty or so pieces, I decided to document each item before giving them away.
Each week during my first and second trimesters, I would go to the darkroom at Carringbush Library in Richmond and make photograms of the glassware. Depending on the thickness of the glass, the light would penetrate through the objects, leaving the etched or painted motifs white, where the light sensitive paper had been shielded from exposure.
This work has yet to see the light of day. After the twins were born, I had three children under two and no longer had time to think about showing work, and it lay forgotten in my studio.
My twins are now 21 and the collection of glassware long gone. Each photogram reminds me of a piece of glass I once owned- beautiful in its own way -and of a time in my life that was filled with hope and creativity, and the weight of expectation.