When I was a kid, I thought my grandparents were pretty great; besides the fact that they always smelled like a cross between a medicine cabinet and mothballs. As I grew, I became aware of my grandma’s quirks. My grandma, Emelia Richards, is a very peculiar woman.
When she sent my family packages, they were usually filled with oddities like unused cleaning sponges, or corn holders. On occasion she would use her unbelievable quilting abilities to stitch us detailed throw pillows that clashed with the rest of our decor. Recently, Emelia has taken up the hobby of playing harmonica in public places such as her local drug store, bank, and supermarket. These quirks fascinate me and I try to visually translate them as well as I can.
My work borrows patterns from her quilts, fabric choices, and imagery that directly corresponds to events and stories she has played a role in.
