At the moment I have a couple of strands of work that are putting me in a quandary as to what to do with them, because I don’t really know what they are yet, what they are for. And yet I am compelled to keep at it.
One: the paper twigs. I’ve taken a small break from these. I thought I had finished, but I think I want to make a few more. Mostly because I am still unsure what they mean to me, these false leads, these interlopers… they’re not real, but are they still useful to me?
Two: the drawings of stones on fabric. As with most things I embark upon, I feel the need to have more, am compelled to keep making them. Unfortunately I have run out of materials, so I am on a bit of a hunt for more cotton and linen sheets and tablecloths. Ideally I want old and worn out ones. Holes are fine. Not sure about stains though.(If you are reading this and you have some, please do get in touch!)
I don’t know what these mean to me either really.
I know I am intrigued by the “weight” of the stones, floating around, ungrounded (like they were on the paper drawings). The fabric makes them lighter, and adds movement. They waft around in the draughts of the studio. The placing of the stones makes a difference, they either sink to the bottom of the sheet, or they are suspended in space half way up, or perhaps they are floating in water.
They have grown out of the work done with the twigs… sticks and stones… but I am still pondering the relationships. They have no identity as yet. In the paper drawings, I had them posing as adults to the children, but that doesn’t really work for this… they have their own role to play.
I have, however, learned to trust my compulsions to make. While my hands draw, and manipulate the fabric, my brain is doing something else.
At some point, all will become clear, I am confident.
(ish)
