Karen is my mother. Growing up, she provided me with a supportive and creative environment within which I could flourish and exercise my own creative pursuits. A wonderful Mum to me. She continues to be an advocate for creativity to this day.

Katy is my darling daughter. She is an inspiration to me everyday with her beautiful smile and sparkly blue eyes. I am proud of the intelligent and creative young adult she has grown into. She is an Architect and has a clever eye for design, colour, composition and thinks deeply about everything she enjoys in the arts/design field. The colours of her name in this embroidery reflect the colours she is mostly attracted to in the way she dresses. A carefully curated sense of design! I named Katy after the book "What Katy Did" as I loved the way it was written with a "Y" at the end when I was a young girl.

I met Manju when we lived in the same house in Oxford in 1976 – a friendship sparked up between us. The writing started then. I had a job which meant travelling away, and she was not yet working so often out and about in Oxford – she sent me postcards about the things she saw and did while I was working or away. And when I left Oxford, as did she, we continued to write as well as visiting each other often. When I returned in 1980 to NZ the correspondence became even more important. We have never switched to email – nor were we ever phone buddies. She and I are both artists and appreciate the tactile nature of mail, and the way it encapsulates time and thought spent on writing and also on wrapping little gifts, or making cards. I have a still growing trove of letters, cards and gift packages.

My daughter is Elisabeth with an ‘s’, not a ‘z’. When I look at the name Elisabeth I see a multitude – all the different aspects of our daughter Elisabeth as she has grown from a quiet, inquisitive but cautious baby into a, caring, confident, practical young woman. It is a wonder to be a part of someone’s life as a parent and see them emerge as themselves. She has a strong caring streak, managed us firmly during Covid, but also has a fun, playful side. She has become an enthusiastic gardener who enjoys allowing things to grow as they will. The spelling of her name, which has given her something to explain every time someone asks her name, comes from Sweden, my mother’s home and in particular from a dear cousin. When you name a child you think of the people you love and admire and would like that child to resemble, you don’t think – will strangers be able to spell her name easily?!

Robyn is my mother-in-law. She is Australian-born but has lived in New Zealand most of her adult life after marrying a kiwi and having 4 children. She’s an artist who does wonderful things and has an effortless way of holding conversations and engaging with people. I admire her strength and the life she has dedicated to her family – her own kids, her grandkids, her siblings, her friends. She continues to amazing every day with her ambition and achievements.

Miri was my paternal grandmother. She passed away 15 years ago and would have been 105 this year. When I was a kid I grew up with my grandma across the street. I saw her every day. I would go to her house after school and she’d prepare afternoon tea for me. I wear her ring everyday which I greatly admired when she was alive. I loved her very much and think of her often. She had 4 sons and I have 2 sons. I like to think we were destined to be the same like that.

Faye is my mother, we celebrated her 70th birthday earlier this year as a family at a lodge in the Rangitikei. It’s hard to put into words how much she means to me. So I’ll just say, I strive to be like her – her kindness, her selflessness, her dedication to her family. She has looked after me every day of my life and I’m incredibly grateful for everything she is and that she is mine.

Shay is my daughter. She is tall and thin (hence the long portrait format). She has amazing curly (but difficult) hair (bad French Knots). Shay's life is sometimes challenging but she is a true star and we love her.

My mum Fay. Always there for me, my brothers, my father and beloved Grandmother

On Valentines Day each year I used to play pranks on my grandmother. One year I tagged her front fence with a pink love heart. Another time I gave her a kitten in a basket with a bow around its neck.

I have chosen Waatara as my name to embroider, as she was born a man, but became a fierce woman who brought back the mana to our whānau.

Loyal, energizer bunny, generous, Australian, only child. All these elements combine into the magnificent Jennie Stone. My mother-in-law-outlaw by whose example I have learnt so very much these last 40 years. Jennie’s faith and loyalty to foundational beliefs and family, regularly inspire me; whilst her unstoppable ability to get things done wows me, as does her wonderful candour. Thank you for your love and friendship Jennie.

My dear Aunty Roz (Rosalind Gillespie) was an inspiring feminist. She made experimental dance films and in later years crafted glass jewellery. She was always a tremendous champion of my work as an artist.

I've always been a big fan of watercolour and I find the way that Tai works with the medium so inspiring, especially the layering. Looking at her pictures makes me feel so happy. 

My dear daughter Mila (Milochka) inspires me everyday with her incredible creative mind. She has struggled with some serious health problems but her artistic spark never dwindles. 

Mama (Wanda) is a very kind person and I love the art that she makes. 

In memory of Margaret 'Jean' Dyer (1925 - 2005). Born in an era when women were taught handcrafts, my Mother excelled. She was an accomplished sewer, embroiderer, seamstress, costume maker and artist. She trained to be a Teacher before she left the profession to become a wife and mother of seven. Her sewing and costume making was put to practical use while raising a family. She took up watercolour paitning in her retirement years and left many paintings to her children and extended family which are much loved and admired. Jean was a supportive and loving Mother who was much loved nd is deeply missed.

Jean North was my mum, she passed away last year aged 91 Mum let me loose on her Singer Treadle machine when I was 8 years old. She taught me to sew and inspired know and inspired me to be creative. Mum loved receiving my handmade gifts and showing themoff to everyone. Mum also supported me in everything I did. She made it clear early in my life that what I did was just as important as my brothers. My mother was my inspiration and support.

"THE LOVE OF MY LIFE"

My mum, who made an incredible comeback after suffering a debilitating stroke. between the lockdowns of 2020. She now lives a new-normal life at home, with help from my Dad. Though she she is not able to embroider like she used to as she says, 'that would require two good hands.' Dhw walks daily at Cornwallis and works on her garden, defying all expectations of the doctors at hospital.

Margaret and John's daughter, Derek's sister, my cousin. Feel lucky to have has a cousin who was also a dear friend. We miss you!

My mother was a person who in many ways did stand out, shine, but not as much as she wished. So this represents who I think she would have liked to be – a side that sometimes came out rather explosively. As I get older I understand my mother better, and realise how much I learned from her about navigating life as a woman. I later made a prettier version – to commemorate her talents in sewing and design.

I used chain stitch in this embroidery not only to represent the links that bind me to my wonderful mother, Agnes, but also to represent the links that time forges between the different periods of my life. Interspersed in the chain which circles my mum’s name is my love for her and some precious little tokens rescued from a devastating fire which razed my family home. My mum and my home may be gone, but the links remain.

Ethel Beatrice McCahon, nee Ferrier (1888 to 1973 ) French Bay, circa 1954 I was very excited to hear that Dad’s parents, Granny and Grandpa McCahon, were coming up from Geraldine to stay with our family in Titirangi. We all loved them as Mum and us children had lived with them in Maori Hill, Dunedin. On the day of their arrival I took all the shortcuts home and did not muck about. I wanted to be there to greet them when they arrived. Suddenly there they were at the door and it was hugs all round. We crowded into the living room and listened to Mum welcoming them and exchanging news of the South Island families. Mum ducked around the corner into her tiny kitchen to tend to the dinner leaving my older sister, my little brother and myself to entertain them until my big brother got home from his paper run. Then Granny snapped open the clasp on her big handbag. We were all eyes, full of anticipation. Sure enough out came a large packet of blackballs. Granny opened the bag and we waited in turn for the invitation, “Would you like a blackball, dear?” We would take one and then we would see her granny grin, “Please take another one , one for each cheek.” When I married my Māori husband Ken Granny was the first one of the extended family to meet him and to welcome him. She was delighted to become a great grandmother to my three sons. She was always the hub of our extended family, everyone wrote to her and she would send the letters around the families to keep everyone in touch . Unfortunately when she died this correspondence finished.