Jeht Burgoyne - Mickey hankie

I've kept this handkerchief for some time, since I was a child. I took it along to my fathers funeral. He passed away a week before my 18th birthday. I remember selfishly being angry at him for leaving before I had become a woman. I am now 34. His spirit has never left me. I saw him in the crowd when I was married, he applauded me in my triumphs, he sat with me in my grief, he smiled at me through the eyes of my new born son. I have taken on the belief that a life never passes, it just passes through. Every moment is precious.

Liz Powell - Cry me a river

Hand stitched and dyed

Melissa Wright - Meems Ghost

My mother in law- “Meems”- sent this hankie last Christmas 2009. Since her son & I are now separated the connection to this family has changed. I feel a great loss and miss the relationship I once had with Meems. It feels as if she is a ghost-like figure to me now. There but not really there. I still love and admire her. This is a bit of an iconic doll of an old lady, dancing in the air, ethereal and moving.

Matthew Rose: La chute des anges rebelles

My father was always aiming for the sky. When my mother passed away on July 25, 2009, he was heart broken. A week before he passed away I found him in his room, sitting on the edge of his bed having just awoken from a dream. He was disturbed. In the dream he was looking for my mother. We cried in each others' arms in the darkness.

I sent nearly all my production to my parents, including this limited edition post card, La chute des anges rebelles / De val der opstandige engelen, the text title from Pieter Breughel the Elder's famous 1562 painting, a dreamscape of rebel angels as they fall back to earth, chased from Paradise by the Archangel Michael. It is the 8th work in a suite of 7 text silkscreens entitled "Paintings." The pieces took only the text captions from the backs of museum post cards. One aspect of this work is the powerful notion of "word as image." The texts of these paintings divorced from their proper paintings. My parents donated the entire suite to The Boca Raton Museum of Art, and a short essay on the work is permanently displayed alongside the pieces as "A Gift From Doris and Irving Rose."

The January day this year we buried my father, the sky was very very blue. A military color guard honored him at the cemetery for his service beginning on D-Day in France, where I now live. Towards the end of the service, I gave a short eulogy about both my father and mother. While looking up at the sky, and its blueness, I told one of my father's best friends: "It's an Irving Rose kind of day." My father would say about the day "Quiet, peaceful." It was. How often I've been left standing with only words; like trying to drink rain drops.

The handkerchief, white with an embroidered golfer, was among my father's things. He used it to wipe the sweat off his brow as he played round after round of golf under blue skies...here on earth. It is an object and image now standing in for the words describing my father, words that say this is something he used, something he liked, something that now represents him here.

Lisa Wise - Mourning Object

Porcelain & Artificial Hair
80cmx80cmx2cm

I can compare the recollection of grief to a particularly disturbing movie. Hair was used to augur the arrival of a ghost. Long black shiny hair that was absolutely terrifying and I was frozen in a state of suspension while watching the horror unfold.

Doug Spowart - Merv: The White Knight

Medium: Cyanotype image of drawing by the artist on cotton hankie


My father was an electrician for around sixty years. He always wore King Gee white overalls—even when we went on holidays.

Ever ready to help someone in need he would dash off at a moment’s notice—even when the family organised an outing on the weekend we would always fit in another job along the way.

Over the years he helped many an electrically troubled soul so we, his family, dubbed him the nickname – “The white knight”.

Victoria Cooper - Dad'll do it

Medium: Cyanotype image, photo and texts by the artist on cotton hankie


I remember that he always tied knots in his hankie to keep it in place on his head and to soak up the sweat when he was working on things around the home. He had lived in this home (in the photo) for most of his life except for the time he was in New Guinea for WW2. Over the years he adapted and renovated this home to suit the changing needs of the family.