Thinking of a hanky and its use of wiping eyes of grief, I reflect on the passing of my nanna in 2003 at the age of 92. My memory of her is not one of sadness but happiness. The happiness comes from a wonderful story she would tell to anyone at the home not just in words but in movement as well. The story was about riding a camel. No one in the family is quite sure where she thought she had ridden this camel and where she was riding it to, but the wonderful event was one she alone did have. I have made my hanky artwork in response to this small but sweet story of adventure and freedom and I carry this story with a smile on my own journey through the landscape of life.
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