2025, homemade, mostly wool felt, proper indigo tie-tyed velvet, and other fabrics, papers, graphite, coloured pencil, strings, thread, pearls. beads, gold leaf, ink, and copper ink, 46 1/2 x 29 inches.

I’m not keen on the name “Common Hallelujah”, but I cannot get it out of my head, so I will stick with it for now. “Common” refers to our ideas about the lowly grass, chamomile flowers, and the earth it sprouts from. The glory of the firmament is what the viewer might think is the hallelujah part. In fact, all these sections are the same, equal in makeup and “hallelujah” to each other. 

A  chamomile flower seems deceptively simple.  Its neglected soil  and roots, dirty and unseen, are most crucial for all life.  Layers  of the earth safely house the golden  roots that endure when the ghost flowers disintegrate.  Both sections are  equal in makeup and HALLELUJAH to the universe. 

This  sky is the exact-ish copy of some part of the northern hemisphere, but to be honest, I don’t remember exactly when or where. These things are significant, so I should remember. Luckily, I know and have written it on the back of the artwork,  but I forgot and  it is not near me now, so I won’t go into it.  If I were being really honest, I would have used a star map of Tuscany during the equinox time of 2024 because that is when I drew the flowers . 

 We were in Italy over Easter in 2024 and as the boys slept late, I would lie in the lawn and draw the chamomile. When you are down low with the earth, everything around you takes on epic proportions