The notion of becoming invisible as an ageing woman has become an accepted trope. My friends and I, from our late 50s onwards, were first gobsmacked then increasingly enraged at being talked over, not served, not replied to, brushed aside and not taken seriously. Small accretions of casual insult that eroded our hard-earned sense of self and agency.
My first guerrilla paste-up a decade or so ago was in a lane in Ballarat, Victoria. I was quite nervous and slightly fearful of being at least fined so I donned a hi-vis vest and put out semi-official public work signs and had a friend spotting for me. I needn't have bothered people went past me and simply did not see me. I love to take every opportunity to spread the idea of how visibility, agency and joy is possible and erasure not inevitable,' says street artist Deborah Wood.
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