The Good Ship Betty |
Miss Havisham is like one of those towers of cliff face that sometimes appear on the coast. The rest of the land has retreated backwards, but occasionally you see fragments of rock standing alone in the water, bravely, ridiculously, rejecting the inevitable. A lonely stand-off between wave and rock and the ticking clock.
I like the image of Miss Havisham in her white dress, like sea foam, the thing she adorns herself in is the very thing that erodes her sanity. Salt water has preserving qualities, but it stings. Textiles feel appropriate, if I had the skill I would use glass or ceramics, but for now embroidery will do. It's something a lady of her societal standing would have learnt, it would have been on her veil, her dress, her table cloth and napkins. I could tell her story on the fabric.