Amber Sherratt - profile image

Amber Sherratt - Graduate

Chelsea College of Arts

BA (Hons) Fine Art

About me

my garden is everywhere. It’s infecting; putting down roots with every glance. i found a new garden coming home next week, i stole pieces from different peoples lives to take home and attempt to domesticate into my beingcut and paste in water for approximately 2-4 weeks until she is ready to be planted.dad flips the camera and shows me the new growth in mamas garden, my first home. i go to the edge of my newest garden and plant the wildflowers from mums funeral beneath the blossom trees. i meet a man on the way home. he says he wants to give me the world and i swallow him whole for trying to give away what has always been mine. I kill him like I kill the flies and moths and creepy crawlies for my plants and my cat. She purrs when I hunt with her; she knows me as mother. i regurgitate him and take cuttings from the man. I regrow him, he belongs to my garden now. I give him death to give him life again. Their death doesn’t phase me but your death did mummy. Insy winsy spider will drown in that pipe but we can bring him back to life by restarting the rhyme. Life is death and death is life. Plants grow then decay to feed bodies that do the same until we are all returned to atoms amongst the soil and sea. But where is the line where life becomes death and death becomes life? Can I find it on city mapper? I have always felt that to give head is to live and die between someone’s legs, but are the definitions of life and death just both that they are processes of becoming? As soon as a life begins so does its death. They unfurl and extend together ready to sag and wilt, then degrade. Life becomes death as death becomes her? But what does she become then? A gardener in an eternal garden in the world she grew in her belly like a soap bubble? Let me tend to you, let me love you, let me show you how much care can flood from me into you, nourishing you and buoying you through till death do us part. The ocean will drown you but it will feed you too. It feels like there are many rooms, some I feel I must’ve seen before, (we knew each other once?), others are fresh and new. I try to connect the dots but I forget and lose my way only to find my thread and where I started. I am learning to make sense of the spaces in between where you end and I begin and the inside space beyond that. give your body to the land and the land will give its body to you. I give the land my time and she gives me her mind

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