SAKAS MAM

Whilst studying Fashion and Textiles at City College, our teacher wanted to take the class on a day trip. I suggested that instead of going to Blackpool, we could venture into Manchester City Centre to see what inspiration lay amongst the busy streets. Our aim was to ‘draw inspiration’ to interpret into our textiles. We, without a teacher, found ourselves outside the Town Hall, sketching away whilst we ate lunch; that bleak weather we were trying to escape from also found us there.

As a change of pace and scenery we moved inside the Town Hall and started sketching within the warmth. A lover of frottage, I wanted to document the textures within the building, so we scattered as a group and decided to meet up later. As we started gathering and waited for everyone else to appear,

I saw a small door and wondered what lay behind. I slowly turned the handle and the door opened, I felt as though I was being drawn into a magical place. Of course, I had to proceed. I, with the rest of the group behind me, walked up the winding stone stairs, which almost seemed to go on forever, beyond and nowhere. I had no fear of where we were going and no memory of where we had begun.

I become lost within the walls. It got smaller and tighter the higher we stepped, and I knew that we were walking in the footsteps of thousands before us. Our exploration opened up into a small room. There was this dead bird skeleton fully winged, spanning over the floor, a realisation of life and death - nothing more. We had found our way into one of the towers high up within the building.We were within the inner body of The Great Town Hall.

My teachers were distraught on hearing that I had brought their students to the Town Hall, to enter a doorway not for public, just for the sake of a textiles project. For the sake of art, I pushed boundaries. So no, I don’t regret it.