Being a textile writer is an unusual occupation and I am often asked how it came about. This is how: By being a stranger in a strange place. Textiles are recognisable. Known. Being a writer gives me an excuse to ask questions, to learn, to poke my nose in, to be curious and to look for things that are familiar and understandable.
I realised that I understand the language of textiles, fabric, and threads. I hear them. I read them. I speak them. When I go to strange places, I look for the fabric. The clothes people wear, the way they dress and decorate their personal space. The art they make. The way they proclaim their affiliations. The way they celebrate, and the way they mourn. It is all fabric.
I also find that people are generous with fabric. They allow you in, to touch, to feel, to experience. Textiles allow people to share, become familiar, and be intimate without being creepy or invading each other’s personal space. It makes you feel like you belong.
After almost twenty years of expat life, I have settled back in Adelaide, South Australia from where new adventures await. As a South African-born Australian, I have lived and worked in South Africa, Uganda, Australia, and the UAE, and have travelled extensively in Africa, Asia, Australia, and Europe.
I studied architecture and writing and have been published in the UK, the USA, Australia, and online. My work has been featured in: