Aileen Johnston, embroiderer
I was taught embroidery by the late Cecil O'Donoghue at the National College of Art & Design, where I graduated with a degree in fashion and textiles in 1987. I discovered I had a great eye for detail, and that is where my strength lies. For a time I did illustration for the O'Brien Press, but now I exhibit at shows and galleries and work to commission.
I began The Book of Hours three years ago but put it away as other work took over. The idea began with West with the Night by Beryl Markham, an adventurer, aviator and the first woman to fly solo from England to the US, in 1930. It is a memoir of her childhood in Kenya and flying experience. I read the book at a time of great sadness in my life, and there was a passage in it about forgetting the past, being brave and looking to the future that was an inspiration to me. I wanted to enshrine her words, words that had such resonance. I wanted to play with the text, which begins: 'I have learned that if you must leave a place you have lived in and loved, and where all your yesterdays are buried deep, leave it any way except a slow way.' The images in my book sprang from the words.
For me the construction of objects is very interesting, and it's the detail of embroidery that I love. It is a forgotten female art. Threads have a lustre and quality that nothing else has - they catch the light - and I love their domestic history. People love the book and want to touch it; it engages them and had such resonance for viewers at an RDS exhibition.
I also paint, and my approach to thread is very similar to oil painting. You are laying down colour, and you can never make a mistake, because it can't be covered up, whether it's oil or thread. I use the needle of a sewing machine as if it was a paintbrush, and instead of moving my hand around the canvas I move the canvas around the needles. This is called free-machine embroidery.
My style is slightly surreal. There are six leaves in the book - six beaded tiers, which make it look a bit like a cake. It is very personal and seems to have affected so many people. One person said to me: 'I can see you in it; I can see your soul.' It will never be sold, and I could never be paid for how long it took me.