|All artworks my original|
Recently I’ve been thinking a lot about the threads that pull seemingly disparate pieces of my work together. Whilst I may have an idea going into something the sheer nature of arting/playing means that the result isn’t always an intended one. I see value in and enjoy the process of exploring an idea, a theme, a medium. a technique. It just doesn’t always got to plan.
Just like now with this post, I’m already off on a tangent diverting from my initial thrust. (I’m actually thinking of getting someone to interview me about my art and recording the session to see where my brain takes me that usually my fingers are too slow to capture. This, I see, is a parallel idea to the Hemingway “Write Drunk. Edit Sober” quote/misquote,)
I’m thinking about the ideas of uniqueness. Fingerprints, how they relate to contours, landscapes, landscapes of the female body. Also our eyes, doorway to our soul(?) their unique colours and patterns. Surely we don’t refer to them as eyescapes. Looking at leaves, they all have a ‘scape’.
There’s actually not too much to write about this cause mostly it’s still trapped inside my head, tangled, arse over tit.
Just so you know, I really like it when people comment here rather than just a FB like. To me, it feels like you’ve actually read it.
I’m guilty of this behaviour also. I’m trying to change. Unless, I’m stalking you – then I read but not comment.
This last weekend I was fortunate to share in a delightful reunion of our mothers group that was first formed over 16 years ago. What follows below is my response to a conversation that inspired after a vino or three. We were discussing how supported we all felt when we had our wee ones and would bring any issues to our mothers’ group. Our eldest kids are now 16 years of age but that kind of supportive environment is never redundant.
Most of us are blessed to be in a position to explore new directions right now. It transpired though that being somewhat accountable could help push us along to reach new goals.
So we have given ourselves six months to achieve our personal, self-set goals.
Below is what I have submitted.
Not a great name but it is an accurate way to pin down my elusive thoughts for now.
I saw the Mirka Mora exhibition recently at Heide gallery and it reminded me that flights of fancy are more than acceptable in my field. Also I’ve been playing with some new paints that I recently bought and that is always inspiring.
Mum and I were also discussing the real life constraint of whether or not the customer feels that they can live with a piece of art. It’s all well and good buying art as investment – though clearly this ain’t my style. I’ve actually been discussing this with friends recently but that will be another post.
I can appreciate that certain works were ground breaking in style, technique or ideas as the time but again this doesn’t mean that I ultimately want to continue to view it in my house whether that be my intimate bedroom space, a more public living space or even walk past it often in a hallway. Please note that I’m not saying that I don’t like the work. I’m just saying that I don’t want to live with it.[The above commentary more refers to the ‘angry penguins’ group such as John Perceval, Sidney Nolan, Joy Hester and Albert Tucker (on display at the art gallery) than Mirka Mora’s work which was on display in Heide II]
This is all relevant just now as my first solo exhibition opens in the Long Gallery at Montsalvat, in Eltham.