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The Scarecrow


A pastoral clown woven from straw

What purpose is there for this forsaken creature?

But to deter everyone, everything

The birds, the toads, the scavengers

Once full of life, now manufactured

Of dried, lifeless herbaceous matter

Sunbaked veins, brittle pathways 

Where water once flowed

An unfulfilled effigy, in search of a new destiny


Bound to a stake and hitched up high

Shackled by this heavy burden

Unflinching under the siege of ravens,

Sparrows, oil slicked crows 

Champion to the dormant seeds and 

The germinating sprouts, the 

Dry, withered kernels of corn

Unbeknownst to companionship, the warmth of love,

The affection from the sun his only comfort 


He will never abandon his post

The celestial mandate above would not allow it

Until one capricious stormy night, 

Strong winds carried the scent 

Of an especially deviant breed of poppies

Its chapped lips whispering the name of his saviour 


She found him there, unshackled from fidelity

Deliverance hydrating his whole body

His taproot toes freed from the earth beneath him

And she showed him that

The circling crows and the prancing toads and

The scurrying rats

Were with him the whole time and you are never truly alone 

If you have the stars above you and 

The earth beneath you


That one commonality connects us all

Like the rope that tethers your limbs together

The straw that stuffs your belly full

And with this revelation, his eyes ignited

He embraced her hand, with a heart so full

The Scarecrow and his new companion 

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The Scarecrow tells the story of a scarecrow who is dissatisfied with his role in life, and through a poppy induced dream he discovers his desire of leaving his post to find joy in the life of a hobby farmer. It is only when he dreams that he is free and if he can’t make this his reality he will be consumed by melancholy, withering away into nothing. His fantasy feels more attainable with the help of his imaginary companion. 


The Scarecrow aims to disprove the gothic portrayal of the scarecrow as a beacon of fear and haunting. He is a sensitive being whose strong willed exterior houses a tender contemplative heart. Stuffed full of protective herbs such as honeysuckle, thistle and violet, he is an agrarian guardian. The symbol of the resurrection and death of crops. He oversees the flow of seasons as they transition seamlessly each year. A misunderstood creature searching to find himself. 


Once dressed in dirty old rags, he is reimagined in this dream state. Adorned in garments that explore age old textile techniques, he is grounded in his humble pastoral roots. The Scrappy Jacket, a utilitarian chore jacket once only made for farmers and labourers in 19th century France, is texturised using the Japanese boro patchwork method. His Sleepy Shirt, celebrates the art of appliqué, embellished with full blooming poppies and spritely foliage. Each petal hand cut and stitched with love and intention, just as he wishes to live from here on out— with love and intention. 

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