Abi says:

I’ve never been able to make a miniature that isn’t connected to a place that is significant for me or something I have experienced. All my miniatures are steeped in nostalgia. I think what I'm most interested in is how a person's material environment reflects them. What does a room in their house says about a person? I am fascinated by how people’s ability to cope, or not cope, can be seen in their environment. When I was young, I used to have a wicker stool that I absolutely adored. I loved the shape of it; I loved the feeling when you sat on it because it creaked a certain way.  I was desperate to have a dressing table to go with it where I could get ready. But the transition from being a young girl growing into my teenage years was really difficult. I was struck down with a chronic illness when I was 11 which meant I was in bed for most of the time, until I was 15. It was only then that I started going back to school and I had to try and find who I was. I could never find the sweet spot where people accepted me; that is why the title of this piece is, Always Too Much, Never Enough. It reflects how I felt back then. When I am making a scene, I get into my own little universe and go back to all those childhood memories to try and remember all the details. The whole way through making this diorama, I was just trying to feel what I felt at that age and connect to it so that I could put all that emotion into the piece. There's still a big part of me that gets moments when I feel so insecure, like I am that little girl again. I haven’t totally mended my relationship with my inner child. I think maybe that is why I play and make miniatures, almost like toys. I guess miniatures are my way of revealing secrets about myself - things I have felt ashamed of or judged for. It's kind of like telling my past in a way that people don't get freaked out by. It’s almost a way of purging what is inside my head. It's quite sneaky in a way, but it’s also . . . so cathartic.