Location: United Kingdom
'Your Arse Is In The Sunday Times' is a confrontational exploration of cult indoctrination, violation, and reclamation.
Utilising acrylic, stencilling, tape, and embedded 3D objects, the artist constructs dense, multi-layered mixed-media works that mirror the concealed architectures of abuse and spiritual hypocrisy.
The portfolio subverts sacred iconography and sensationalist headlines, burying and exhuming coded subtexts to wrest absolute agency back from patriarchal power structures.
In YAST 1, 2, and 3, turquoise represents the artist’s inner peace, disrupted by the recurring presence of a car lurking in the background. While the scene appears quiet on the surface, the vehicle is an emblem of latent dread—the car used to transport the artist to cornfields.
Moving into darker, heavier tones, YAST 4 explores the architecture of confinement within a religious institution. The work reflects the dual experience of being trapped as a victim and watching patriarchal abuse operate in plain sight. Embedded within this shadowed space, the depiction of a womb serves as a focal point—marking violations that occur both within the physical body and beyond it in the institution at large. The sanctuary is ultimately reframed not as a refuge, but as a site of containment, surveillance, and control.
Following the artist’s flight from the community at age seventeen, this piece charts the complex threshold between escape and recovery. Turquoise re-enters the palette to signify newfound independence, though it is deliberately constrained by structural boundaries—a ceiling and walls that represent internalised doubt and the enduring psychological reach of the past.
AST 6 documents the turning point decades later, when the artist discovered at fifty that her abuser had continued targeting young girls for years. The piece reflects the media maelstrom that followed—from Sunday Times exposés to a BBC documentary—capturing the disorienting, circus-like atmosphere inside and outside the courtroom as private violation was suddenly thrust into the national spotlight.
YAST 6 and 7 confront the collision of past trauma and persistent menace. A portrait of the artist as a concert pianist captures a pleading gaze—an unspoken demand for the abuse to stop—set against the sharp visual language of danger, police tape, and threatening press coverage. The composition is shadowed by the repetitive, surveillance-like presence of the abuser’s eyes, reflecting his sustained campaign of physical and online stalking.
YAST 6 and 7 confront the collision of past trauma and persistent menace. A portrait of the artist as a concert pianist captures a pleading gaze—an unspoken demand for the abuse to stop—set against the sharp visual language of danger, police tape, and threatening press coverage. The composition is shadowed by the repetitive, surveillance-like presence of the abuser’s eyes, reflecting his sustained campaign of physical and online stalking.
YAST 8 explores the complex threshold of healing and self-reckoning. The figure’s blue face reflects emerging lightness and hope, set against surrounding textures of inherited shame and the fear of emotional vulnerability under control. Layered directly onto an autumnal napkin, the piece visualises the domestic, messy act of mopping up decades of trauma—shifting the narrative from active crisis toward integration, reflection, and quiet acceptance in later life.
“YAST 1”
“YAST 2”
“YAST 3”
“YAST 4”
“YAST 5”
“YAST 6”
“YAST 7”
“YAST 8”
