When future generations look back on our time, surely there can be no greater symbol of our hubris, our blatant disregard for our environment, than the plastic bread tag. Tiny, difficult to recycle, multitudinous, the small eternal reminder of what it takes to deliver us our daily bread.

Most bread manufacturers have switched to cardboard. Almost equally difficult to recycle, at least these bread tags will return to earth in our lifetime, not stick around, clinging to this mass of detritus we have made of our planet long after we are all dead and gone.

Jo Blogg gratefully received an incomprehensible bounty of bread tags, gifted whilst fossicking at the Environment Centre, deposited there by those hopeful they might find a second life. In Jo’s competent hands those hopes came true.

Jo experimented, arranging the tags, mindful of their sympathetic pastel hues, then baked them in her oven, melting them together in an array of shapes. From the many, one. And then many more.

It’s a process that brings her joy, sustaining her ability to innovate, to diversify, to create treasure from trash. In doing so she builds on her impressive oeuvre. Artful compositions nod to her many mandalas.

Conglomerate shapes, a vestige of her plethora of florals. And there’s a playful domesticity to the work, a tongue in cheek nod to the kitchen, reminiscent of her Cook Book exhibition.

The best of artists take all they have learned and build upon it, breadcrumbing their way to success. In this exhibition, light and filled with whimsy, Jo shows she is continually evolving, forever pointing out to us the beauty and absurdity of our existence. In doing so she is not only creating something alluring and accessible, she is shining a beacon for future generations, showing us that though we are, en masse, making a mess of our planet, individually we can be redeemed.

Rosheen FitzGerald