In addition to last week’s letters, I have also been physically representing the 'remembering' process- and exploring the use of a 'remembering game' if you like. Something that’s also came out of my workshop day in the village hall with Richard. He brought along some objects for me, a box of snakes, (quite literally) ribbon, chalk pastels, and a few other well-chosen items. I was immediately drawn to them, maybe because they were new to me? Maybe because they were nice objects, well chosen, complimentary of each other, if the mundane of objects can compliment. Colour wise they were appealing, warming; a breadth of pastel pinks, blues and greens…
I knew I wanted to respond to this desire, to everything about these objects, from the way they had been placed on the table by Richard to the space between each object, the composition and the very fact that at that moment I wanted them to stay like that for ever. My initial reaction was to pin these objects down, secure them, and keep them just the way they were- I slowly drew around each object using chalk. This in itself allowing me to spend longer with each object as this process required a slow action, thought and a focus on the circumference of each object.
It was this that led to considering the other things I wanted to keep hold of and lead me back to my thoughts on addresses and telephone numbers. What would happen if I forgot one day my old address? Or my parents address, my old, old address? Fundamentally I mean I would be okay, but would it scare me? I started to think it would, a whole memory wiped, a house wiped?
This consequently led to the accompanying image- a repetitive list in which I continuously listed the objects Richard had brought from memory, those objects I so wanted to remember, become precious over, trap, pin down- an obsession with recording and an untrust of the memory.
