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Eliza Bennett

A Woman’s Work is Never Done

A series of photographic works titled ‘A Woman’s Work is Never Done’ Using my own hand as a base material, I considered it a canvas upon which I stitched into the top layer of skin using thread to create the appearance of an incredibly work worn hand.  By using the technique of embroidery, which is traditionally employed to represent femininity and applying it to the expression of its opposite, I hope to challenge the pre-conceived notion that ‘women’s work’ is light and easy.  Aiming to represent the effects of hard work arising from employment in low paid ‘ancillary’ jobs, such as cleaning, caring and catering, all traditionally considered to be ‘women’s work’. 

The technique, I recall first applying to my hand under a table during a home economics class in school. I was totally amazed to find that I could pass a needle under the top layers of skin without any pain, only a mild discomfort.  As with many childhood whims it passed and I hadn’t thought any more about it until quite recently when I decided to apply the process to my hand to make it appear calloused and work worn like that of a manual labourer. Some viewers consider the piece to be a feminist protest, for me it’s about human value. After all, there are many men employed in caring, catering, cleaning etc… all jobs traditionally considered to be ‘women’s work’. Such work is invisible in the larger society, with ‘A woman’s work’ I aim to represent it.  (artist statement)



a little girl who grows up thinking all doors are automatic but actually she’s haunted by a really polite ghost

(via thfairy-pirate)

Est-ce que tu pleures ?
Si tu pleures ne sèche pas tes larmes.
Car je ne sèche pas les miennes.
L’enfance est un couteau planté dans la gorge
Et tu as su le retirer.
À présent, il faut réapprendre à avaler sa salive.
C’est un geste parfois très courageux.
Avaler sa salive.
À présent, il faut reconstruire l’histoire.
L’histoire est en miettes.
Consoler chaque morceau.
Guérir chaque souvenir.
Bercer chaque image.

Est-ce que tu souris?
Si tu souris ne retiens pas ton rire
Car je ne retiens pas le mien.
C’est le rire de la colère
Celui des femmes marchant côte à côte.

Incendies, Wajdi Mouawad (via mapeaudefleur)

(via alombreda)