Recently, I had the absolute pleasure of visiting Jenny Davis at her studio and home in the beautiful Yarra Valley.
Exploring vintage textiles and creativity through stitching
Her studio was like stepping into a world of colour and creativity. Every surface was filled with new works—paintings, paints, framed pieces—just bursting with energy and life. Jenny’s work has always inspired me, and I’ve been lucky enough to own two of her paintings for over 25 years now. I still adore them just as much as the day I first brought them home.
After a lovely chat, Jenny invited me into her home to show me her stitched pieces and vintage collection. As I walked through the back door, I was immediately struck by the beauty laid out on the table—there was hardly any space left! It was a feast for the eyes, with books, handmade indigo and shibori fabric books, and vintage textiles dyed with natural colours. Rusted bits of metal, buckles, and handles—all these little treasures from French markets—were spread across the table. Each piece told a story, and as I slowly peeled back the layers of fabric and stitching, I felt like I was uncovering hidden gems. I tried to capture it all with photos, but honestly, they just didn’t do it justice. There’s something about seeing all those beautiful creations in person that no camera can truly capture.
As we spoke, Jenny reflected on her lifelong connection to creativity. She shared with me that her journey into the art world started young, long before she could walk or talk. One memory she holds dear is being captivated by the floral rose pattern on the lounge room carpet. Even as a child, Jenny was always collecting bits and pieces from around the house or streets, arranging them in her room or outdoors—anywhere she could carve out a quiet space. It wasn’t just about collecting things; it was about transforming them, like dismantling dolls and rearranging them into something new.
I collected and cut up glittery cards and saved every bit of paper I could find—paper from the butcher shop, grocers, mum’s nylon stocking paper, and shirt paper. Anything I could use to draw on or cut up. I still do this today.
Jenny’s first trip to the National Gallery of Victoria left a lasting impression. It was sometime in the late 60s, and she recalls seeing a black painting with a white dot in the middle. Her mum, with a typical Aussie reaction, exclaimed, "Strewth, oh my hat!" But Jenny loved it, even though she didn’t quite understand why at the time. She would later discover that this was her first exposure to abstract art—a passion that would one day come full circle when her own work was exhibited in the National Gallery of Victoria in 1996.
The power of hand stitching and resourcefulness
Her home environment played a big role in shaping her creative spirit. Jenny reminisced about how, even though they didn’t have much, her mum made clothes, knitted, crocheted, and mended everything. That resourcefulness and creativity left a lasting impact. Jenny would gather scraps from her mum’s sewing table, turning them into collages and wall hangings. She especially loved making teapot cosies, oven mitts, and aprons—items she saw her mum using every day. In many ways, art became a way of connecting to the practical creativity that ran through her family.
Jenny shared that her family didn’t own many books, except religious ones, so she made her own. She’d piece together pages with paper and wool, making little storybooks with images from her mum’s magazines.
We had no books in our family except religious ones, so I made my own little books with paper and wool. I made up little stories with drawings and words and images cut from mum’s women’s magazines.
In her teenage years, when life took a bit of a chaotic turn, Jenny said that drawing and writing got her through. She continued creating with whatever she had—repainting furniture, sewing cushions, and draping brightly coloured scarves over windows, chairs, and tables. The need to make and transform has always been a central part of who she is.
In her 30s, with three children to care for, Jenny found herself ready to dive deeper into the world of art. She took every class and course she could find, finally enrolling in art school once her children were all in school. After completing her studies, she designed and built her own art studio in the Yarra Valley, where she still creates today.
What struck me the most about Jenny’s story was her passion for teaching creativity to her children. "I made my children clothes, toys, dolls, decorated their rooms with op shop finds," she said. Jenny believed in the power of creativity, telling her children that “all is possible” if you use your hands and mind together. She encouraged them to think outside the box, take risks, and embrace the art of problem-solving.
As we continued chatting, Jenny reflected on the work she’s done over the years, from exhibitions to residencies. One of her proudest moments was being accepted for a residency in Barcelona, where she spent eight weeks exploring art, creating, and collaborating with Max Ernst’s granddaughter. That experience blossomed into a lifelong friendship and even led to an exhibition in London. Jenny also shared that she had been commissioned to create three large pieces for a Melbourne hotel, the only time she’s ever been fully paid for her work—a bittersweet reminder of the challenges artists face.
Transforming vintage quilts with hand stitching
Finally, Jenny showed me her prized vintage quilts, some of which were over 200 years old, with dates like 1823 embroidered on them. She uses these precious pieces in her own work, embellishing them further while thinking about the generations of women who stitched them together. It’s this connection to history, to the hands of women before her, that gives her work such depth and meaning.
When we spoke about her stitched work, Jenny hesitated to call it ‘art’. But as she shared more, it became clear that her stitching is just as valuable as any painting or sculpture.
When I’m stitching, I feel a connection with the stories, with this familiarity of domesticity. It feels like home.
And that, I believe, is something we can all relate to—the quiet, powerful art of creating from the heart, whether it’s in a studio or at the kitchen table.
What inspires your creativity? Have you ever found yourself drawn to a craft or art form that feels like home? ➡️ Find out more about Jenny and her art here. 🌟