In the painted wood wall sculpture, ‘Where the Buttercups Grew’, I was looking back on my childhood in England and specifically, to the small town where I was born and where my mother’s family lived. I was particularly fascinated by the ruins of a church that dated from the 12th century. It was situated in a field that had a number of strange, grass-covered mounds. I was told that the ancient village had been wiped out when its inhabitants had died of the Black Death in the mid 14th century. In recent years, I discovered that this was not altogether accurate but the myth has stayed with me.