Bare Bones

Christmas is approaching fast and any good intentions regarding work are beginning to unravel. With a run of sick children and a new puppy, broken nights spent nursing and cleaning up for others are becoming a regular part of life again.

My own research continues to move forward with visits to galleries, interest from curators and interviews with participants building momentum.

Opening up this subject of our night time experience has produced fascinating insights into the lives of the women I have spoken to. Experiences gained at night time often seem to remain there – either they seem insignificant or irrelevant in the harsh light of day.

The women I have interviewed have often spoken of habits, memories, rituals, thoughts that they have never shared with anyone before. In a way my difficulty lies in translating something so intimately personal into work for public display.

I often feel I have been trusted with something quite precious.

Looking back at these past posts I find I am in a different place with each one. Working alone, totally self motivated and directed, seems to leave me wide open to being pulled this way and that depending on the circumstances that day. Trying to force some sort of structure upon my time with four children to care for requires a mammoth dose of self will.

But I believe I'm moving forward.

Three women winners in twenty four years of the Turner prize.

Can there be such a discrepancy? What then?

Judges are hopelessly biased?

Women's work is not as good?

My, – what a quandary we have.

I'm learning to live with a constantly shifting structure. There are other ways to do things. And I've got to accept that for now – this is mine.