These works were created during the reign of terror that the Yorkshire Ripper had on the city of Leeds. My art was my outlet and the following images expressed, better that any words, how I felt about my attack. ‘Intensive Care’ Pen and Ink, 1981. Waking up in intensive care seeing no one about I wondered where I was. I felt overwhelmed in my isolation. I could hear the regular beeping sound form distant machinery. I felt somehow contaminated, anyone passing the end of my bed looked at me strangely at my swollen face. My jaw was wired tightly together, I had to speak through my teeth. ‘Revenge’ Pen and ink, 1980. I explore my inner turmoil and work at a frenzied pace. I express my anger at the brutal attack. The work was produced in the aftermath of the recovery working in the art studios with my scars still healing. I felt abandoned and scared that the culprit could strike again and come to finish me off. I made this picture in wrath and resentment at great speed showing the pain I had suffered and the pain I wanted to inflict on my attacker. I wanted to scream with horror but I couldn’t. I wanted to yell and cry out, I felt so trapped behind my wires. This was a frightening portrait. Once I saw what I had made, I realised that the picture represented how I envisaged punishing the Yorkshire Ripper. I wanted him to experience what I was going through. Transforming my emotions and venting my anger through drawing was the only way I could express myself at the time. ‘Hang the Ripper’ Etching, 1981. After he was caught and named as Peter Sutcliffe the public bayed to bring back hanging. There was a general consensus that this was justifiable as the extents of his heinous crimes were revealed. It raised the question, ‘who would pull the noose’? The rope pulling on the Rippers neck would stop him striking ever again. In hindsight I’m glad he wasn't executed, this gave time for the police to question him resulting in him confessing to two other attacks. I waited in hope for many years for him to confess to his attack on me. If he did that, I could get on with my life secure in the knowledge that no one was out there walking free. 'Silenced Survivor Starved of the Truth' Pen and Ink, 1981. I was lucky to have survived and that's how I went on with my life but parts of me felt gagged and blinded as I had no one to blame. I became a dumbfounded onlooker onto the world. The fat man represents the investigation authorities revelling in their victory and glorification in capturing and charging ‘The Ripper’. I am being ignored as the men in grey suits get on with their comfortable lives. ‘Sunday Roast, Twisted Tail’ Pen and Ink, 1982. Made after the trial to my dismay my case was never mentioned. The story disappeared from the headlines. My story went cold. On Sundays everything was closed, the boredom made me stew on my situation. ‘The Ripper’ story had now been sanitized The butcher’s tools hung up, now redundant. Sunday was a time for lavish communal ritual, a celebration of the sacrifice of death for the gift of life. The peaceful family ritual, a celebration a calmness ensued now that the was finally behind bars paying for his crime. Justice had been served on a platter to the public but not to me Here the police authority is symbolised by the pigs about to carve the sacrificial meat. The body on the platter represents the bodies of the women sacrificed in the overly long search to find their killer. The last supper symbolises the sacrifice god giving his son. Here I question if the victims had been men would the search have taken so long to catch the Yorkshire Ripper. The crucifix here is a symbol of torture and of loss. The picture on the right is left incomplete for a portrait of the perpetrator who had tried to kill me as he remained unidentified, no one was in the frame. I was left with an empty hole. I was not served justice. I was excluded from the Ripper story, as a result I could not finish the picture. The place setting in the front of the table in the foreground is mine but I am not present, I am absent, my story was incomplete. The pig on the left is looking directly into an empty frame raising the question who then could my attacker have been? ‘Streets of Fear’ Pen and Ink, 1980. This was one of the first drawings that I did in response to hearing the Ripper’s voice on a recording that was sent to the police. The handwritten letters could be seen on billboards and his voice could be repeatedly heard from every radio and television set. The tapes and letters that he sent threatened our lives. The figure in this picture looks down onto the blood stained streets below. No one is at the windows. Where was the Ripper hiding? The Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher spoke on the television news, advising women not to go out alone at night. There was a threat that the Yorkshire Ripper would strike at any time. There was a feeling of claustrophobic fear amongst women living in Yorkshire. I made this drawing month’s before I was attacked. ‘Rescued or Dying - Hospital Ward’ Etching, 1981. This picture shows an open door with a hand coming in to either help or attack me. The doorway hides the perpetrator. I had an unsettling recovery. I was fearful of falling asleep in case the attacker came and tried to kill me. I was still trying to remember what had happened and felt very vulnerable after my operation the open hospital ward, a place that was accessible to the public. The hand in the door opening has an ambiguous message, was someone coming to help me or to kill me? I became very suspicious of everyone. After my recovery, I walked around Leeds city centre looking for my attacker in the hope I would recognize him and report him to the police.