Wearable drawings in sterling silver in response to the fields and hedges in the landscape around my home.

Made in an edition of 5 pieces in each of 5 shapes.

Each individual brooch may vary a little in shape from the versions shown above.

In The Rule of the Land (2017) Garrett Carr recounts his experience of walking the Irish border and describes a field as follows:

When you’ve seen a few dozen fields they all look the same, but once you’re seen a hundred or so, every field starts to take on unique characteristics, minor differences seem minor. A clump of hawthorn that has been worked around but itself remains untouched; a bathtub being used as a drinking trough; a corral built from railway sleepers; a stack of bales wrapped in black plastic. When a field lacks obvious features, there is always the lie of the land to look at; every field has its own undulations, swells and dips.

 

However, a long walk makes it possible to average out the experience. With the passing days and distance, all the different fields I cross can be morphed into one archetype and the description of this field will save us from the description of hundreds. So you can assume the field I am crossing is in order but not neat. Assume the grass is healthy but not lush. Assume the field is roughly rectangular but contorted, rhomboid, or somehow possesses a fifth side. Assume there is a least one galvanised-steel gate and that the breeze is blowing a wheezy tune over the holes in its tubular design. Assume the field is churned up in one section; around the gate or a drinking trough the grass has been obliterated under hooves and tractor tyres. Assume the field is not flat, but sloping at a twenty-degree angle. Assume the lower end is the border. Assume the field abuts the border with its shortest side. And assume, by the time you’ve assumed all this, that I have already crossed this field and am in the next.