BLAH

My practice lives in the gap between art and life and questions the cloudy relationships that exist across this void.

PECULIAR THINGS OUR BOOKS 

Traces of my life on tracing paper…

 

Private vs public… books always have the potential to be read by other people...

I think of writing a book like opening the curtains in your home (head), so then passers by have the option to glance into your living room(brain) and look at how you live (think), what things (thoughts) you have and how they exist within your homespace, (headspace). Confusing, and very creepy. 

In this case, I made a book FOR other people. I took my door off its hinges and said “Awk ‘mon in!”

 

A MOLE IN A HOLE

Moles are blind. They live in darkness.

 

It’s important to remember that artists are human beings. We live, we breathe, we make dinner, we eat, we dance, we drink (too much sometimes), we (ahem) go to the toilet… We have boyfriends, girlfriends, brothers, sisters, mums, dads, friends, foes, feelings… At the time of the project, I was looking for clarity, about myself, my circumstances, my future. The book gave me the chance and space to observe, react and interact with my world around me. To live in the “Now” rather than the “What am I going to do with my liiiiffffeeee???” To get out of my hole… pardon.

 

I would notice or happen upon things and instantly think “Boooook!” (Said in Winifred Anderson’s voice from Hocus Pocus)… THAT WAS EXACTLY THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THE BOOK AND ME! It controlled me, consumed me. It haunted me, daunted me. Mostly because it was a moleskine – so posh, so new! It was a pain and a pleasure to produce. Wish I’d made a copy to keep for myself!