{"id":474017,"date":"2026-02-14T07:20:08","date_gmt":"2026-02-14T07:20:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/474017\/"},"modified":"2026-02-14T07:20:08","modified_gmt":"2026-02-14T07:20:08","slug":"regrets-number-one-smoking-number-two-taking-it-up-the-wrong-hole-tracey-emin-on-reputation-radical-honesty-and-reform-tracey-emin","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/474017\/","title":{"rendered":"\u2018Regrets? Number one: smoking. Number two: taking it up the wrong hole\u2019: Tracey Emin on reputation, radical honesty \u2013 and Reform | Tracey Emin"},"content":{"rendered":"

There is a long buildup before I get to see Tracey Emin<\/a> \u2013 her two cats, Teacup and Pancake, preceding her like a pair of slinky sentries as she walks into the\u00a0white-painted basement kitchen of her huge Georgian house in Margate. The lengthy overture is because \u2013 though I\u2019ve been invited for noon \u2013 Emin is a magnificently late riser. Her average working day, her studio manager Harry tells me, runs from about 6pm to 3am. And so, while the artist is gradually sorting herself out, Harry takes me on a tour through her home town in the January drizzle, the sea a sulky grey blur beyond the sands.<\/p>\n

At last, Harry is ringing the doorbell, and Emin\u2019s lovely housekeeper, Sam, is sitting me down in the kitchen, then finally here she is, dressed in loose dark trousers and top, with those faithful cats. Emin is recognisably the same as she\u2019s ever been \u2013 the artist who scandalised and entranced the nation in the 1990s with her tent embroidered with the names of everyone she\u2019d ever slept with; with her unmade bed and its rumpled sheets and detritus. She still has that sardonic lip, those arched brows, those flashing eyes. But these days she is surprisingly calm, slow moving, her greying hair swept back into a loose bun. This is the Emin who has worked hard, survived a great deal and, somewhat unpredictably, ended up a national treasure.<\/p>\n

She pours out cups of green tea \u2013 once, it would have been vodka and a fag, but there\u2019s been no alcohol for nearly six years now, and she quit her 50-a-day habit a long while back. In the past few years, death almost claimed her and she clawed herself back to life again: in 2020, she was diagnosed with a vicious squamous cell cancer<\/a>, requiring dramatic surgery. \u201cI had to have my bladder removed. I had a full hysterectomy. I had my lymph nodes removed, I had half my vagina removed, I had my urethra removed, part of my bowel removed,\u201d she says, ticking off the losses. She is contained, quiet-spoken, and there are none of the flashes of anger she was once famous for, though she\u2019s exacting as we talk, correcting me if she thinks I\u2019m on the wrong track. Seven hours and more, the operation took. She also had a urostomy \u2013 surgery to create a stoma (hole in the abdomen) so urine can pass out into a collection bag. She often has hers beside her in a tote bag.<\/p>\n

Emin working in her studio in Margate, 2024. Photograph: Harry Weller<\/p>\n

Life without a bladder is \u201cpretty heavy\u201d, she tells me. Today, for example, when she got in the shower, she had a lot of bleeding from her stoma. Then there\u2019s the whole business of the bag, which needs emptying into a loo maybe \u201cevery 15 to 20 minutes, or it might be OK for an hour. For a lot of people with urostomies, they don\u2019t go to theatre, they don\u2019t go to cinema,\u201d she says. If you can\u2019t get to a loo in time, it can overfill and burst, which isn\u2019t great, especially if it happens in a public place. If she wants to do something as simple as take a nap at home, she says, even that\u2019s tricky. \u201cIt wakes you up because of the pressure\u201d and, worst case, \u201cThe bag will just fly off, and then all the urine will go everywhere. It\u2019s 500ml of urine in a small bag, which doesn\u2019t sound like much.\u201d (It sounds like plenty, to me.)<\/p>\n

She has bowel problems on top of everything else. \u201cYou\u2019ve got the blood, you\u2019ve got the shit, you\u2019ve got the pills \u2013 it really can get you down, because you can\u2019t be free. Nothing can be improvised. Nothing can be spontaneous. When I go away, half my suitcase is full of medical supplies.\u201d She\u2019s not moaning, she keeps telling me: she knows she\u2019s lucky. But it\u2019s hard work. She got really upset, she says, about what to wear for her investiture as a dame<\/a> last year. She had her bag strapped to her leg, which was OK, but uncomfortable. \u201cI didn\u2019t want to do my photos with the king holding a bag of urine,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n

I reckon I was going to die, then they (she glances heavenwards) said, \u2018I don\u2019t think she\u2019s all bad. Let\u2019s give her a second go\u2019<\/p>\n

Then there are the infections \u2013 urinary tract one day \u201cthat can go to a full-blown kidney infection the next. And then, if I\u2019m really unlucky, a blood infection.\u201d She had sepsis in September, she says: \u201cAnd it took me about three months to get well again.\u201d She\u2019s on antibiotics much of the time for one thing and another. She worries about getting a cold or flu \u2013 there are no friendly hugs and kisses any more. \u201cAnd I get so fatigued.\u201d She is clearly extremely vulnerable, physically. But she gleefully shows me her lifeline: \u201cIt\u2019s pretty strong, and goes right round into infinity,\u201d she says, tracing it as it disappears round her wrist. \u201cI reckon that I was going to die and then they, whoever they are\u201d \u2013 she glances heavenwards \u2013 \u201cthey said, \u2018I don\u2019t think she\u2019s all bad. Let\u2019s give her another go, see what she can do.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

This is, then, her second life \u2013 and Second Life<\/a> is also the title of her forthcoming show at Tate Modern, her largest to date. Her brush with death changed everything \u2013 it was the spur to relocate permanently to Margate, to set up a foundation<\/a>, to put in place things that could give back to her home town and carry on after her eventual death. There are still houses in London and Provence \u2013 but Margate is home now. Aside from her roomy painting studio, on his tour Harry shows me the high-rise where Emin has bought flats for artists to live in at low rent; the art school<\/a> she has created, where a second intake of students, nine of them, are working away; the artists\u2019 studios she\u2019s renting out at low cost; the building she\u2019s going to convert into another 10; the former morgue that\u2019s a training kitchen<\/a> for long-term unemployed people; then there\u2019s the derelict building along the coast that\u2019s going to become a cafe and community bathing club<\/a>. Hers is a philanthropic property empire. Harry also shows me the hideaway Emin used to go to at weekends, before she moved into the big house in December. With a flourish, he opens a door from the bedroom and a sizeable toplit indoor swimming pool is revealed, like Narnia from the back of a wardrobe. Later, Emin worries about me mentioning it, because she thinks Guardian readers won\u2019t approve \u2013 though speaking for myself, I\u00a0was more dazzled than disapproving.<\/p>\n

My Bed, 1998. Photograph: Tracey Emin. Photograph courtesy The Saatchi Gallery \/ Prudence Cuming Associates Ltd<\/p>\n

The Tate Modern exhibition is going to be huge, ranging right across her 40-year career. But she\u2019s not calling it a retrospective \u2013 not least because the first work in the exhibition is the spikily titled My Major Retrospective 1963-93, made when she was 30 for her first solo show, at White Cube gallery. It consisted of photographs of the paintings she had made at art school and then destroyed \u2013 one of the turbulent chapters of her relationship with the medium. Among the more recent works will be a series of photographs she has taken of her own post-operative body \u2013 the blood, the stoma, the reality of life in a battleworn female body \u2013 shown opposite photos of her body she took as a young woman. There will be her installation My Bed \u2013 her soiled sheets, the environs littered with bottles, fags, condoms, all the self-revealing fragments of a chaotic life \u2013 which caused an uproar when it was shown as part of her Turner prize exhibition in 1999.<\/p>\n

Emin was a paradox \u2013 wildly successful, hugely famous, but also damned for her supposed self-absorption and narcissism. Looking back, some of this criticism looks plain sexist. A woman, especially a working-class woman, making art about her emotions and body was not seen as respectable, back then. Now, I think, the world has caught up with her. She tells me about what people made of one of her early films, Why I Never Became A Dancer<\/a> (1995), which will be in the Tate exhibition. \u201cAt the time, people were saying, \u2018Oh, it\u2019s just Tracey prancing around.\u2019 No! Listen to what I was saying,\u201d she says vehemently, as if she\u2019s slipped back 30 years and is confronting her critics. \u201cSee what the film\u2019s about. Understand it.\u201d The film tells a story of her adolescence \u2013 how she left school at 13, how she had a lot of sex with a lot of men in their 20s. And then, in 1978, at 15, she entered a disco championship. She was on the dancefloor, owning it, she was going to win \u2013 \u201cAnd then they started: \u2018SLAG, SLAG, SLAG.\u2019\u201d Most of the people taunting her were men she\u2019d slept with. She ran out of the room in tears. But the film ends with her dancing \u2013 seizing joy from the men who tried to bring her down.<\/p>\n

When I see a 13-year-old girl now, I think, \u2018Oh, my God, imagine someone having sex with that person. What the fuck is wrong with them?\u2019<\/p>\n

\u201cWe\u2019re talking about grooming, we\u2019re talking about bullying,\u201d she says now. \u201cAnd, of course, you know, the \u2018Slag, slag, slag\u2019 didn\u2019t just happen on the dancefloor. It happened in the high street. I was raped when I was 13. Then after that, about six months later, I started having sex with all these people \u2013 because I wanted to be in control. But, of course, I wasn\u2019t. It was terrible. When I see a 13- or 14-year-old girl now, I think, \u2018Oh my God, imagine someone who\u2019s 20 or 25 having sex with that person. What the fuck is wrong with them?\u2019\u201d Her refusal of shame reminds me of Gis\u00e8le Pelicot<\/a>\u2019s stance: \u201cShame must change sides.\u201d I ask Emin how she manages not to care what people think of her. \u201cWhat makes you think I don\u2019t? I do care, immensely,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n

There are two rooms in the Tate Modern show devoted to works on abortion \u2013 Emin had two in the 1990s, the first almost killing her, after it turned out she had been pregnant with twins and one foetus was left inside her. It wouldn\u2019t be easy to show such works in the US now, I suggest. Even though, for example, her film How It Feels<\/a> (1996) doesn\u2019t take a campaigning position, but simply does what the title implies. Emin tells me she has pulled a version of the Tate Modern show from the Guggenheim in New York, after the exhibition space available was, she says, reduced. \u201cIt was made impossible for me to do it because the space was getting smaller and smaller, and then it meant that my Tate show wouldn\u2019t actually fit.\u201d It would be a question of making the show smaller \u2013 but then, she says, \u201cWhat work would they take out? The abortion work?\u201d Was that what was discussed? \u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d she admits. \u201cI just know I\u2019m not doing a show there any more.\u201d (The Guggenheim was approached for comment.) \u201cIf I have a show in New York,\u201d she says, \u201cit\u2019s got to be exactly as I want it to be.\u201d<\/p>\n

There\u2019s an account in her book, Strangeland<\/a>, published in 2005, of her rape when she was 13 \u2013 she was pushed into an alley by a man while walking home after a New Year\u2019s Eve party. When she got home, her mum dusted her off and no more was said. It was kind of ordinary: the girls she knew used the phrases \u201cbroken in\u201d or \u201cbroken into\u201d when they\u2019d been forced to have sex for the first time. When I express horror at how commonplace sexual violence seems to have been, how surely things have changed for the better, Emin laughs at my naivety. \u201cIt\u2019s happening all the time. It\u2019s happening around the corner \u2026 Right now, somewhere, not very far away, someone is either being beaten, locked in a cupboard, being raped, being abused, being coerced into something they don\u2019t want to do.\u201d<\/p>\n

Art is probably one of the last good things we\u2019ve got left as human beings<\/p>\n

And then, of course, there are the myriad ways in which being a young girl in the age of social media is even worse than it was in the 1970s. Her take on misogynist horrors such as Elon Musk\u2019s AI tool Grok, which had been used to digitally \u201cundress\u201d<\/a> and otherwise humiliate real women and girls, is, she says, \u201cluddite\u201d. \u201cI keep telling young people: keep a diary, get a camera, learn to print your own photos. Don\u2019t put it all in your phone, because everything in your phone belongs to someone else. And if you want to write a secret to someone, send a letter. There\u2019s nothing wrong in slowing down and stepping everything back.\u201d Taking your time, that\u2019s what\u2019s important, she says. It\u2019s like looking at a painting. You have to do it slowly. \u201cArt is to me, now, probably one of the last good things we\u2019ve got left as human beings. And it was the same in the caves in Palaeolithic times.<\/p>\n

\u2018Making a beautiful painting isn\u2019t about making power. It\u2019s empowering yourself to feel something.\u2019 Emin in her studio at the Royal College of Art, 1989. Photograph: David Dawson<\/p>\n

\u201cThere\u2019s something about making something from ourselves which is beautiful and otherworldly as well. And we need all of those things right now to remind us that we can be good-spirited, that we don\u2019t have to make corruption, we don\u2019t have to make greed, we don\u2019t have to make power,\u201d she says. \u201cMaking a beautiful painting isn\u2019t about making power. It\u2019s empowering yourself to feel something, and then if you\u2019ve done it correctly, other people look at it and feel something, too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emin had a turbulent childhood. Her Turkish-Cypriot father, Enver, had another family and was only around a few days a week. Then his hotel business collapsed and he abandoned Emin, her mum and twin brother Paul, plunging them into poverty. I wonder how, despite all that, she has such a positive relationship with Margate now. It was actually her mum\u2019s death, in 2016, that was the first turning point, she says: it was then she decided she wanted to continue to have a connection with the place. And now, \u201ceven though my mum\u2019s not here, I sort of feel she\u2019d be really so happy to see what I\u2019ve done. She was worried I\u2019d gone up my own arse and become a bit of a twat, which I had at some points. I\u2019m just trying to recalibrate what\u2019s important in life. Art<\/a> is the most important thing to me \u2013 and I know other things are more important to other people, but it\u2019s art for me. So now I just live art, work art, do art, facilitate other people to do art \u2026 There\u2019s a sense of peace. I\u2019ve gone full circle in my life. I\u2019ve come home. That is one of the nicest feelings in the world.\u201d<\/p>\n

Margate has some of the highest rates of child poverty in the country. Emin tells me proudly about how art and culture are making a difference to the struggling local economy. There\u2019s the huge success of the major gallery in the town, Turner Contemporary<\/a>, and she\u2019s involved in a pop-up arts festival that took place a few weekends ago, called Off Season<\/a>, which gets shops and restaurants buzzing in the dead of winter. But Kent county council is now run by Reform. In August, union flags went up overnight in the town, as they did around a lot of the country, part of a campaign linked to the far right. \u201cI wanted to hire a cherrypicker and cut them down,\u201d Emin says. \u201cAnd then we realised that probably, if I tried to get a cherrypicker, it could be the same cherrypicker they hired to put them up.<\/p>\n

Tracey Emin, Self-portrait 12-11-01 2001. Composite: \u00a9 Tracey Emin. All rights reserved, DACS 2026. Courtesy the Tracey Emin Archive<\/p>\n

\u201cI like to reclaim things,\u201d she adds. \u201cLike during Cool Britannia<\/a> [in the late 1990s], the flag was used as a positive thing for everyone.\u201d When Emin had a big show<\/a> in 2011 at the Hayward Gallery in London, there was a billboard poster for it showing her running down the street naked, trailing a union flag. \u201cI got a phone call from what would have been Ukip at the time and they said, \u2018We\u2019ve noticed your poster holding the union flag \u2013 you\u2019re a woman from our hearts, and we\u2019d really like to meet up with you.\u2019 And I said, \u2018Yeah, obviously you didn\u2019t notice how brown my arse is, did you?\u2019 And I just put the phone down.\u201d She adds, \u201cMy dad came here in 1948 from Cyprus, and he\u2019s really dark skinned. My great-grandfather was from Nubia [modern Sudan]. My mother\u2019s family were Gypsies. So as far as I\u2019m concerned, I\u2019m the most amazing British person you can have.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ukip wanted to meet me and I said, \u2018Yeah, obviously you didn\u2019t notice how brown my arse is, did you?\u2019<\/p>\n

She\u2019s voted Labour all her life, she says \u2013 apart from twice for David Cameron\u2019s Tories<\/a>, in 2010 and 2015. (\u201cWell it wasn\u2019t that I was voting Tory,\u201d she clarifies, \u201cit was that I was voting for certain ministers that were supporting the arts\u201d \u2013 though culture secretary Jeremy Hunt and arts minister Ed Vaizey failed to prevent huge cuts to the arts imposed by then chancellor George Osborne as part of his \u201causterity\u201d measures.)<\/p>\n

The current political tone on immigration appals her \u2013 and she loathes Reform with a passion. \u201cIf\u00a0the far right get in in this country, we are doomed. And everybody has to understand the significance of it. When friends say they\u2019re not voting Labour because of what\u2019s happened in the last two years, I say, \u2018Then vote\u00a0Tory, vote anything, vote Green, but don\u2019t let Reform get in.\u2019\u201d She adds, \u201cThe immigration from\u00a0asylum seekers in this country is minuscule, minor. Britain\u00a0could take care of people wanting to come here, people could be processed and people could be working \u2026 Instead, we\u2019ve got a country now that\u2019s bordering on\u00a0neo-Nazi rhetoric, which I find really abhorrent.\u201d<\/p>\n

We speculate for a moment on what a potential Reform government might bring the arts. \u201cArt institutions may not survive, but art will always survive. If you had Farage pushing down all the arts, saying things were degenerate, getting rid of it all, like Trump is doing now, you will have this bubble, bubble\u201d \u2013 her voice rises like something out of Macbeth \u2013 \u201cbubble of all the arts, that you will never be able to stop, ever. And they will rise up like the biggest fucking volcano these people have ever seen.\u201d<\/p>\n

For Emin, the solution to poverty and lack of opportunity is always education \u2013 despite her own schooldays not being a success. She didn\u2019t get on with academic work, and stopped going to school at 13. \u201cMy mum wasn\u2019t around. She left home for quite a while. My nan would come sometimes. People would drift in and out.\u201d She defends her mum fiercely. \u201cIt wasn\u2019t my mum\u2019s fault. Out of choice, she wouldn\u2019t have left us \u2013 end of story.\u201d At one point, Emin was caught stealing from Woolworths: \u201cReally badly caught shoplifting. I\u00a0got caught for nicking a pair of navy blue socks.\u201d They were school socks, of course. \u201cWhat the school should have done at that point was said, \u2018Why is she stealing school uniform? What is going on?\u2019 But people didn\u2019t notice things like that, back then.\u201d<\/p>\n

Emin teaching at her Margate studio. Photograph: Harry Weller<\/p>\n

When she was 15, she was effectively forced back to school by social services a couple of days a week, where she mostly sat in the art room, drawing. There, for the first time, she was encouraged, mentored \u2013 and she flourished. By sheer force of will, she got herself into art school despite not having O-levels or A-levels, battling people\u2019s low expectations of her all the way. \u201cIt took me a long time to get to the Royal College of Art, but I did it. And now, you can\u2019t go to art school unless you\u2019re loaded.\u201d<\/p>\n

I wonder if she has any regrets. As one childless woman to another, for example, does she regret not having kids? \u201cI\u2019m really, really, really happy about not having children,\u201d she says. \u201cYou know how people are really happy because they have children? I\u2019m really happy because I don\u2019t. And I\u2019ve got lots of young people around me as well, which is really good, people who are creative. And I have really made my life as full as possible, behaving and doing things that someone with children couldn\u2019t do.\u201d<\/p>\n

What are her regrets then? \u201cNumber one: smoking. Number two\u201d \u2013 she suddenly starts giggling \u2013 \u201ctaking it up the wrong hole.\u201d Tracey, do you mean anal sex? We\u2019re both cracking up now. \u201cI mean that metaphorically as well \u2026 although I don\u2019t even regret it because some of it was quite good.\u201d She pulls herself together. \u201cWhat I mean is a sensibility about understanding what I wanted and what my needs were. I should have taken much better care of myself, but I let myself get blown around, and that was silly.\u201d Most of all, though, she says she regrets what she calls \u201cthe B-list years\u201d \u2013 the mid-2000s for a goodish half-decade or so \u201cwhen you look back and think, \u2018God, was that the shallowest level of myself that I could ever be?\u2019\u201d Too much partying; not enough time devoted to the thing at the centre of her life: art.<\/p>\n

That was after she split up with her then partner, artist Mat Collishaw. Is she seeing anyone now, I wonder? \u201cNo, not really, no,\u201d she says, slightly evasively. In her life she has dated men and women. \u201cNo, I\u2019m not. I was having a relationship with someone for a while, but not a conventional relationship, and I had an affair for a long time with someone who I really was deeply in love with, and I still love. I\u2019m still loving, I still love, and to love, really, is \u2026 is human. And I think to live without love is probably one of the saddest things for the self, for the heart, so I don\u2019t want to live without love ever again. I\u2019m quite happy now with unrequited love, as long as I can love \u2013 and I have my cats.\u201d<\/p>\n

She\u2019s absolutely certain, though, of one thing. \u201cI don\u2019t ever again in my life want someone saying, \u2018What time you coming home? Where are we going on holiday? What we eating tonight? Did you eat the chocolate? No, it\u2019s your turn.\u2019 Never, ever \u2013 mind you, I never really had it, because it wasn\u2019t like that with me \u2026 \u201d A certain self-containment, an ability to live her life as she wishes\u00a0to live it, is what\u2019s important now. \u201cI like my sovereignty,\u201d she says.<\/p>\n

Everything, now, is about the art. If the cancer, the touch of death, did one thing, it was to clarify utterly who she is and what she exists for. Painting is at the centre of her creative world these days. There are many canvases on the go in her studio, some she\u2019s working on actively, some that might sit there for a few years until she turns to them again. She often paints over things she\u2019s done \u2013 which are frequently, but not always, female figures a bit like herself, or couples or, at times, her mother \u2013 allowing one set of painted gestures to suggest the next, sometimes completely transforming the image along the way. Harry tells me that when they are in the studio together, \u201cshe talks about what she sees in the canvas, and then starts painting it in\u201d.<\/p>\n

I ask her if she can describe what that feels like. \u201cThere\u2019s the canvas, there\u2019s me, and there\u2019s this other space between us, and you have to go through it, that space, and you drag in everything behind you with you into it. It\u2019s like going through a weird tunnel. And the painting is whatever you\u2019ve dragged through the tunnel with you,\u201d she says. \u201cThere are many ways to be a painter \u2013 art has many rooms. But for me it\u2019s like an explosion of sorts. It\u2019s like my heart being ripped open and then throwing it all on to the canvas.\u201d<\/p>\n

She\u2019s lit up when she says this. This is what she\u2019s on this Earth for. It suddenly dawns on me: she\u2019s happy \u2013 or at least happier than she has ever been. \u201cYes,\u201d she says. \u201cEven when I\u2019m unhappy, I\u2019m not as unhappy as I used to be. I do what I want to do. If I feel like painting, I\u2019ll go and paint. If I don\u2019t feel like painting, I\u2019ll go and teach. If I don\u2019t feel like teaching, I\u2019ll go and take a walk on the beach. If I don\u2019t want to walk on the beach, I\u00a0cuddle my cats.\u201d After the cancer, she says, \u201cThe big thing that I discovered was that I don\u2019t want to die right now. You might think that\u2019s obvious, but it\u2019s not. I have spent a lot of my life being sad, being nihilistic and punishing myself mentally \u2013 and drinking and smoking. And then I realised: I could have my time back again.\u201d<\/p>\n

Tracey Emin: A Second Life is at Tate Modern, 27 February-31 August. The Guardian is partnering with Tate to offer readers 2-for-1 tickets. Use the code GUARDIAN241 on the Tate website to redeem.<\/p>\n

My Heart is This: Tracey Emin on Painting by Martin Gayford is published by Thames & Hudson on 26 February at \u00a325. To order a copy for \u00a320, go to guardianbookshop.com<\/a>. Delivery charges may apply.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"There is a long buildup before I get to see Tracey Emin \u2013 her two cats, Teacup and…\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":474018,"comment_status":"","ping_status":"","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[31],"tags":[76,354,355,49,48,356,75],"class_list":["post-474017","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","category-arts-and-design","tag-arts","tag-arts-and-design","tag-artsanddesign","tag-ca","tag-canada","tag-design","tag-entertainment"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/474017","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=474017"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/474017\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/474018"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=474017"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=474017"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.newsbeep.com\/ca\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=474017"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}