My art is something precious; something locked behind my tongue.
Barbara Hanrahan, Sea Green (Fontana Books, 1980)

TWO YEARS AGO, a spiritual experience punctuated my otherwise secular existence. I was standing in a strange hallway. The walls were covered with framed prints of the most absorbing detail and colour. The floors were bare, so it looked like an upside-down house with many rugs up high and the ceiling beneath out feet. The hallway belonged to the sculptor Jo Steele, partner of the late Barbara Hanrahan.