High Street Project House

Renee Boe

A moment of contact imparts a history of lives. Traces become evidence of journeys, and surfaces reveal memory.

The traces of those who have moved passed this room, impressions made in their daily life are captured, bringing back to life moments of contact now dead.

Fiona Gunn

The room is a bedroom - a child's bedroom perhaps. From every window in the house there are glimpses of mountain views that surround us. Picture postcard mountain views in the distance.

The room - a room to me - I know no one who has lived here. I come to take from it - it is given to me - I hope to give too.

The balsa wood spoon, sensuous and fragile, is a symbol - a metaphor for giving - the giving of sustenance. It is a giving up - a giving into.

A dream perhaps - the feeling that one is left with when one wakes. Trying to grasp into the thickness of sleep to understand the absurdity, the incongruity of the feelings.

Suspended disk of mirror and a window piled with stones held by spider web threads and pins. Holding it from falling, from spilling - from slipping into consciousness from the softness and the equilibrium of sleep.

Katherine Claypole

Brenda Nightingale

" In the tightly knit world of Italian fashion access to the finest fabrics comes only with the right credentials "

There is a world far away from the stunning beauty of Otira. A glimpse seen in a magazine, shoes that can have no place here, except in the imagination of the woman who's moment of fantasy takes her away.

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