The trigger for my work is often the tension between opposites. In this series my own home and the idealised houses shown in interior design magazines jostle for attention. The two and three dimensional coexist in a carefully contrived series of still lives that explore how the environment we are born into continues to exert influence as we move through life. I’m concerned with how the world around us influences the world within us. These images are a collision of fact and fiction, layers of styling and control distilled in a single collection of the found and collected. The objects that make up these still lives are instilled with the ability to remind, both shared and individual memories triggered by the sight of the past resident in the present. The spectacle of forgotten surfaces reminds us of touching, smelling, and feeling, of people and places. I’ve always been a ‘homemaker’ creating dens from an early age, my first in an old coal shed, curtains and all. When I eventually got my own bedroom, it was to the bemusement of my family that I regularly changed it around, striving for the optimum design. Huge beds and wardrobes suddenly seemed no obstacle to the teenage me as I dragged the contents of my small room around. I left home at 17 to have my own bedsit, which was promptly re-designed. Later in life ironically I ended up moving a lot, sometimes only living somewhere for three months at a time, but each time I had to decorate and arrange the space to my own design. My present abode has been home to my partner and me for nearly a decade and as a consequence has become a repository for a large collection of objects and pieces of furniture that could be described as either junk or treasure depending on your viewpoint. The periodicals are more recent acquisitions, sourced to be as near to my birth month as possible. In this digital age it feels like the printed page may soon be a thing of the past, and that these fragile sheets of paper have lasted as long as I have lived is some small miracle.