Celtic Infinity Knots

I was scrolling through old photographs today and realized how strikingly similar my recent black & white paper-cut artwork is to the Celtic-inspired ink drawings I made ages ago, before I had kids.

Artistic affinities and resonances run deep and surface again and again like runner roots. My artwork even looks like roots, in a tangle, an embrace. So like tumbleweed, my emblem.

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2012 papercut – in love with symmetry and pattern-making. Incidentally, this piece has angel-like motifs that resemble the angels on the ceiling of Ewelme Chapel.                                     

 My tattoo wedding ring and tattoo necklace are also infinity symbols (and the marriage is infinite, in its own way – you can cut paper, but not lives).

My ring is here forever and my necklace will garland my pulse even after the heart goes slack.

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My first experiments with Celtic/ Art Nouveau designs when I was 21

 There is something reassuring — at least for an expat/ nomad/ drifter such as myself– in perpetuity, in promise, in forever, in lines that twine and knot and become indistinguishable from one another.

My tattoos are a promise that will never fade, wash off, disentangle, get stolen or lost.

Though I mock the ink now, and dream of truly naked skin– a blank canvas to begin again–my skin keeps its promise.

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