I send R. my most recent photos of the bones. The bones have temporarily taken on a new personalities adorned with lace and long, sharp black pins.
In my sketchbook I write; Artist to make artwork- imaginary grave goods – using goose bones that look like something they are not.
To be presented as if from an imaginary museum.
Good discipline – write now about the concept behind my work. Equals integrity and ultimately makes for strength and clarity. So- I think we need to look again at the concept. We have the basic artwork concept So – how to proceed with the poetic element of the collaboration?
My feeling is that the poetry should also follow the concept– the bones look like something they are not, the grave goods are something they are not, from a culture that doesn’t exist, and all ostensibly from an imaginary museum…….
I write to Rowyda: Would this help us meet in the middle?Artist to keep the concept of the non – existent culture but to work within the constraint that nothing in the materials used would exclude the pre Islamic Arabian world. This would allow you to interpret the grave goods with reference to an imaginary/ historical Arabic culture of your choice if you wish………………
5th February I send Rowyda new photographs of the bones. They now feel finished to me but then again maybe not.
In my mind I am moving on to how to display them. I think every nuance of what one chooses matters. I tend to be more anal about the exhibiting than the work sometimes. I have no idea if R. will understand this!
7th February We meet in the Fleapit in Columbia Road with all the other poet and artist collaborators. Rowyda is feeling unwell but has struggled in. There is a huge buzz in the room. This is such an exciting project and listening to everyone talk is awesome. So much talent and goodwill.
Anika and Ellie announce we have a venue in Stoke Newington for April. Now the exhibition feels real and there is a time scale. I have bought the bones with me and Rowyda goes home with them. They are so fragile that leaving them with her is a definite act of trust. They are not an artwork that could be remade.
At home I feel as if I have forgotten something………………presumably the bones.
