A link to my....

Sunday, 24 July 2011

Its like holding hands, only rougher







I just went to do an artists residency in the Sonoma Hills of California. I have to admit when I arrrived there was a storm a brewing inside, I did the same residency last year and the whole landscape and experience was so pregnant with the love I felt and received from someone special, that to go back to the land, to retread those sacred footsteps alone suddenly filled me with fear and as the plane took off I just wept.

There is a term in New Orleans called 'taking the beast for a walk', well that is exactly what I intended to do, was gonna get on that hill and curate the sky with kites, like speech bubbles, or bat signals, or even exorcisms of the fliers. So excited to collaborate with the wind and in my mind I wanted to build this huge whily out of control kite, that wouldn't necessarily work with the wind, that would furl and unfurl, morph and and just rah in the sky. I didn't know if I could do it, I had an excellent kite construction book and of course my usual cockiness that anything can be done.

So as we are driving from San Francisco we stop and get a bite to eat at this funny little seaside restaurant with a cowboy band honky tonking in the next room, we fill our bellies and say cheers to the impending adventure with a litte sparkly. Before we left, I needed to dip into that sea, cos when I see the sea, I just need a little baptism, so i ran in with my clothes on, (to be fair my little jumpsuit was not much more than a swimming costume and bang, it was a real boistroous sea, it gave me a real tumble and I swam out to where the waves were a little less crashy. I will tell you, it was beautiful and fierce, it was icey cold and th waves were so powerful, it was being at the mercy of nature at its best, I ended up swallowing a whole load of sea water and really struggles with all my might against the undercurrent that would just wipe out my progress in a second. When I got to shore I had a moment of that elation, the stingy pink of my skin, the pride of the wrestle, but very quickly I couldn't see straight and sitting in the foot well naked swaddled by a blanket I puked my guts out into a coffee cup. When we began the ascent up the hill, with the sun glittering through the evergreens and the smell of the forest all the fear had gone, all the memories were washed out. I was so weak and base, all I culd think of was gratitude for all the beauty as my head began not to spin anymore and I felt the warm air that rising to the peak washes over you, by the time I arrived, it was just a sweet warm relief to be in this place I knew so well and loved.

When I got there I quickly realised there was no wind to play with, I ran around like a silly puppy with my maquette kite, enjoying the sweet exercise and youthful sprite it takes to fly a kite, but it was fruitless. Without being able to try out the simple kites I couldn't get a sense for how it all worked and quickly my confidence and sureness melted away, which felt awful. I was only going to be there for two weeks and already a fair few days had passed by this time. The ghosts of the land started fogging up as the San Francisco smog crept up like a beautiful, but sinister blanket and the beast was sitting right on my chest, I was definitely not taking it for any walk.

But as life always does, the little sparks of inspiration started their little glow and it is all thanks to the people, it always is, that is why there are so many people in my work, the beautiful encounters we can have, the inspiration and the mutual button pressing that goes between people when they share their souls so openly, that magic, that always fires me up. Some of the people I meet in my life are magnificent, the wildness of a personal intimacy between two people is so unique, even in its ordinariness. I was so inspired by my artist friend Daphane Park, who just manages to bring so many people together by asking for help and having ideas on the table as a forum of discussion, it made me realise how limited I am sometimes, how I just work away in some squirrel hole alot of the time, just to be able to feel some all-encompassing ownership and I can say that, that my work is all mine all mine, but that attitude has only brought my loneliness and often exhaustion from having big ideas and trying to achieve them alone.

And Pamala, she has created a forum for deep discussion and relation in a place of safety, that is such a rare and rough diamond, that kind of devotion is so uncommon to me and I wonder and admire that she is evolved in such a way and I can see that she has such depth with so many people she touches.

Adrina my collaborator and dearest friend, we truly do cross oceans for eachother and pioneer our lives to involve eachother for meetings of the minds but also for the future, to always have a path that somehow includes eachother.

And Elliott the warrior, who let me talk on the phone for an hour in circles beause sometimes that is just how realisation and understanding comes.

And John for finding the glitter in the dark with a torch, for John because he is a special person and ecouraged me to play the organ, when the rest were getting sick of my bad teenage renditions of love songs.

To Miles and Valentine, for moving the slight cinic (inbuilt london barriers) so physically and emotionally with their psychic ceremony. They told me that I could reenact a few scenarios in my life, ask back the parts of myself that I gave too freely, they also led me to imagine that my aura was an opening and closing rose, opening to let the joy flood in, closing to protect my sweet self.

Seed and her gentle compassion and understanding.

I made some work, some new kind of work, I started something that has been inkling in my mind but never made it out as a solid pursuit and I left happy, stinking to buggery as the electricty and therfore hot water, had run out two days before, warm from the candlelight talks, a head full of glitter and some serious cowboy boots on my feet increasing my stride by 1.5. On the way to the airport I felt the beast on my chest again. And then the tears just flowed, nothing lasts forever, some beauty is just a fleeting gift.

I made a droplet, a geometric construction. This holds so much weight in my mind this form. It seems to have it all, it is the top of the hierarchy of needs, it has all of life in it, it has release, it has that mid air tiny slice of the present, it has left the source and there is an explosion impending, it is that perfect tiny slice of the present that I always think about, that doesn't really exist since the future is sucked through the portal of the present to become past in a seamless transaction. It is so relevent.
Now the last drop of that year yonder love has left my body, I have a banging body, well as much as it can bang after having a kid, but it does, all that doughy flesh that seemed to appear when love was in fruit has gone and what is left is the ferral necessity, the lythe muscles it takes to get through a day in my life, which can be a little on the edge of possibility, I feel ready to pounce.
And when I was putting the eyedrops in my nearly five year old daughters eye, who has glaucoma and has just had her second surgery all in the space of five weeks, I realised the how connected we were, that the drops would go into her eyes and come out of mine.

I am going to make some films and y'all will see them soon. really soon and I think I might turn all of them into a book.

Get ready.


Thursday, 5 May 2011

The Swan Bandwagon


Finally found these photos in a dusty corner of my hard-drive.
A paper wedding dress I made for Kate's Paperie in New York.
 I was working right up to the button and unfortunately my photos were not very good 
and neither were theirs! 
These are the best of them.
Let me know if you want one for your wedding.
pros : unique, can get big volume without using too much paper, so you can look like my big fat gypsy wedding for less, you can snip it up afterwards and write your thank you letters on it.
cons: flammable, kind of awkward to sit down, people might tear off bits to write eachothers phone numbers on, you know what cattle markets weddings can be.

The back of the Bolero

The Dress and Close-up of the Train




Wednesday, 27 April 2011

Mardi Gras! The most evident utensil


 
7 oclock Mardi Gras morning after getting to sleep at 5.30 am. My god adrenaline is an amazing thing. Thank god being as pale as a ghost only enforced the concept of my costume.
 
Photo - Caitlin Hansen

Can you guess what I am? Neither could anyone else! The thing is, I was so convinced of the clarity of this costume and now when I look at this picture I wonder what I was actually thinking, why I had such clear confidence that I was almost an exact replica. I can see that I could make some minor improvements and it will be much clearer, longer wig, gold bit and pink bit actually part of the dress.... Next time.
So I did make it and cut my own pattern for it and it is doublesided and turns into a kind of multi-from avant guarde evening gown on the other side. I am proud of these things. 
So I will give you some clues: 

First clue - it was inspired by this song, the brainwave hit me like a lightening bolt in the head. 
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0lWYBzpPZBA

Second clue - you can't actually see it, and I shall take a picture and ammend this post, but my cape is in the style of a piece of lined paper.

Third clue - the people seemed to really like my dance when I wrote their names with my hat and my other dance specifically entitled the 'Rubbing man'.

Yep you guessed it.

 

 And another costume made from the wallpaper of Dominic Crinson. We are propellor boy, jelly fish and cabin boy respectively, all dolled up for the Maritime Ball at the Spellcaster Lodge. It felt great, though I needed to take an assistant to the loo and some rather rough looking gaffa tape repairs were made through the evening, since I was completley unable to control my dance moves when the 'Thee Oh See's' began to play.

 Photo - Caitlin Hansen


Photo - Caitlin Hansen                              

Saturday, 16 April 2011

Destruction Inspires Creation

Was thinking of renting out some desk space....anyone? ;-)

Harmonious soundwaves from the loophole of infinity. 
Visual onomatpoeia, you know looks like the sound it would make.


 Coming out of their shell



We are all born in a barn


Retired lightening bolts of passion


Crystals and coffee cups






unintentional sculpture

I know, I know, what I am about to tell you is bad. I have been so hooked on this book, 'Fountainhead'. I found myself reading it at the oddest hours, living the sleep of having a new born baby, though maybe i was the baby, being fed by the rich plateau of conversation it created, the thoughts it provoked, the anger and debates it created, the nodding understanding of being on the same page. So I was reading it in the bath at four in the morning....and I woke up at 6 in a cold bath with my book floating in the waves.







and when it came out it looked like this and i cursed that the best sculpture i ever made was so unintentional. This is exactly how I feel about the content of the book, well actually it isn't how \i feel this is the content of the book, it became more of itself than it could be.

Tuesday, 1 February 2011

New Drawings

Tableauscape

Lucy in the Skyscape

Dreamscape

Sleepscape
I have been doing some drawing recently, multi layered drawings that develop slowly after much rearranging, a collage of lots of drawings from past, present and a created future, creating and unearthing at the same time. It is quite difficult for me to believe that a drawing is the end result, so used to things going from drawing into the sewing phase, but since this process mimics the layered net embroidery I did over the summer, I feel as though these are informed from some new dimmension and that these are the product of a much longer journey, not the first time that my drawing have been influenced by sewing. I am curious to hear your thoughts.