Old Meroogals never die they just hang in the laundry……

Take notice! This will be my last Meroogal entry.  Every year I say this and every year this happens! Meroogal is a wonderful old house – the sort that smells of Nanna. It’s this reason and the fact that I am usually bogged down in oils in the midst of winter, nothing dries and I start that wander round-the-house fidgets.  It usually culminates with an art vs craft eruption and my obsession with a strange collection of objects.

When I first saw the Meroogal exhibition, it was little old lady watercolours, quilters and the odd assemblage – a bit like the old house itself.  The Meroogal Womens Art Prize has now grown into a slick exhibit and the cost? The loss of the kitschy, badly done and  for me, the feel of anything is acceptable as long as you have that love of Meroogal.

Last years theme Books, as pictured here, had me in Lilliput awakening to Meroogal women who had tied me there.  So once again it’s that time of the year – and once again I feel I am tied to this strange land.  What else would I do with a collection of ephemera from the last 10 years?


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