..then I’ll tell you a tale of a chair that I know, that was no longer wanted, was old and with holes,

but gained a new life in a local art show, and thrilled all its viewers to the tips of their souls.

On a cold winter’s day, so grey and so cold, an idea was planted and grew in the mind

Of our artist, breathed life and grew bold, and off she did go, inspiration to find.

The artist loves words, loves the colours they feel, their shapes on her pen, how they roll on her lips.

There are words that can harm, and ones that can heal, our artist chose words that would sail like ships.

She thought and she dreamed, she practised and sewed, did drawing and painting, she kept or she threw.

She thought and she cursed, whilst working she glowed, her needles and thread through textiles they flew.

Then came the time when decisions were made, final thoughts thought and final words picked.

To all her research a goodbye was bade, needles were readied and threads they were licked.

She wrote and she drilled, filled her chair with more holes, said prayers that the woodworms had left her enough,

Then she wove with bright threads, gave the chair a new soul, the gentle threads’ softness contrasting the rough.

The battered old chair, once thought to be doomed, spent a weekend in Saltaire, amongst fragrant herbs.

Cameras were clicked, and focuses zoomed, embroidery seen that delights and disturbs.

Quiet, and yet proud, the chair gently stood, near its ‘Habitat’ friends it’s now grown to love,

These all made with care, and equally good, I’d like to think Titus approves, from above.

* For more on my end of year piece for my FdA in Textiles Practice, do check out my Instagram here, and let me know here or on Instagram what you think about art, textiles, and writing!

Anna xx