when I got home today the whole street smelt of our beautiful mimosa…
Mimosa
Mimosa wood, brass pins refashioned from piano springs, (from the toolbox of a friend’s piano-tuning late father); Ladybird book pages; found cotton
We have a tree, a mimosa of some kind, in the front garden, which we have recently pruned. This plant plays a daily role in my life as I traverse the floors of the house from my workshop in the basement to the top of the house, where I draw. I have a constant view of its wonderful form. I have a love of this tree and found it hard to prune, it seems so wilful and alive. Its beautiful jewel-like yellow flowers, which bloom early in the New Year; its almost skin-like bark which is a wonderful shade of dusky grey-green and its leaves being so feather-like that they impart a sense of movement even in the lightest breeze.
I have a growing collection of its beautiful branches in the basement.
My badges are made of part of this collection. They are not made of recycled material in the strictest sense, rather the material has a new use. The mimosa’s value being extended through these new objects.
![]() |













