“Here there isn’t a single trace of man’s presence… The wind shapes the landscape as it likes. It is an unchanging landscape which is constantly changing.”
Gerard Lanux Wind on desert sand; water on coastal sand… the rhythmic passing of time.
I am guessing that every single one of the resulting undulating patterns is different. Like every grain of sand, every star, every pass of weft over warp, every found stone on a beach… all the same, all different.
If you were on a journey and asked to describe it, where might you begin? Maybe by stating your destination or would it be your point of departure? On the other hand would you simply want to look around and describe the view at that particular moment?Keep reading
Soft, digestive bubblings reverberated from deep within the body beneath me.Keep reading
The very last stone is now from the wall.
The 6.17 metres of grading, spacing and order which lived in gallery 101 from June 2005 ‐ September 2006 are no longer.
Order (the title of this temporary installation) is currently in a situation of re-order; labelled and stored in hundreds of small, numbered, plastic bags. Its partner piece, Hieroglyph, is in a similar state. I was fascinated by the subtle traces left on the wall ‐ a kind of ghost. It looked even more textile in this softened form.
If I have learnt anything at all from this experience, it is that the first rule of programme making is FLEXIBILITY! In West Yorkshire, surrounded by soggy tents and piles of washing ‐ only seconds it seemed, home from a summer camping trip ‐ the phone call came.Keep reading
Just unpacked a box from Kathmandu of the most fabulous tight, stringy, hard, handspun balls of hemp. 8 wonderful kilos of exactly what I was looking for. A tough thread of a rich, undulating, natural colour – love it! The smell ‐ simultaneously a fresh deep hay barn and Nepal. A few years ago, coming back from leading a trek in Bhutan, I came across a small shop selling bags that I thought were made from nettle fibre (allo).Keep reading
A conversation yesterday made me realise that it never ends. It is forever…always…ongoing.
There is no clear the desk, switch out the light, close the door, finish.
No ‘tick the box’ done. Like water, like a river ‐ creativity is fluid, sort of joined up ‐ continuous. No actual beginning, no actual end. It just keeps coming – flowing (or not!) unbidden. Trickling sometimes… even smelly stagnant…even dried up (now we don’t want that do we)…until the next impromptu shower of stimulus has you bobbing along quite nicely again.
…. old today. To celebrate this blog’s first birthday I have chosen some favourite images from the more humble areas of the V&A’s fabulous mosaic floor.
I took these shots as I was leaving one evening after working all day on the installations in Gallery 101.
A very brief post to say haven’t gone away…. A number of exciting projects in the pipeline ‐ all entailing certain levels of organisation and admin ‐ have kept me quiet for a while (at least here).Keep reading
Rock: of the Earth ….. Galena: Lead Ore ….. Mineral ….. Metal ….. Heavy ….. Soft ….. Pliable ….. Malleable ….. Weavable ….. Beatable ….. Textile.