Weaving Stories through Craft – Judy

As a young girl, Uncle Steve and I were very, very close, there was just an innocuous thread but strong as silk that bound us.

He along with my mum and dad used to sit at a foot treadle potters wheel in one of the more derelict sheds on our family farm in northern Tasmania. One day, wrapped in tough crinkled brown paper I was handed a solid parcel and upon opening it there was the lamp. Oh what a joy, a joy that has stayed in my heart. Uncle Steve described it as two bowls joined together.

This lamp has been everywhere with me, bar the time I was in boarding school and living on a Borneo built boat. The lamp shade has had several incarnations, but the lamp has stayed the same. It lives on my side of the bed.