In my pockets there are always strange objects found in the street or other public places. The objects can vary in size, form or colour and are often broken. The only thing they have in common is that they are unidentifiable for me.
I often read crime stories. Stories constructed around persons and actions, the central theme being to find out the truth about a murder. And the truth must be proved with evidence. Evidence can be anything – but is always found in the wrong place. Evidence can be marks from a substance unknown or objects taken from a totally different environment and dropped somewhere else.
In my pockets I have evidence. Maybe not of a crime, but still – something has happened. These strange objects were taken out of their context and found – by me – in another place. Maybe lost from a hole in a pocket or was it a quarrel, an accident, a fight or a leap of joy? The objects could have been placed on purpose or lost in a moment of stress.
So what is the story?
My brooches are made from found objects. I make up a story for the object and illustrate the story in a brooch. The found object is always central to the piece of jewellery.