I’ve been told to write a blog

When the internet goes down

def. studio

1. the workroom or atelier of an artist, as a painter or sculptor.

2. a room or place for instruction or experimentation

with continuous rain and 02 down; i’ve had the perfect conditions to start making work- and that’s what i’ve been doing. albeit it’s not 20mtr sculptures, but you’d be surprised how many maquettes you can make from the rural towns art suppliers.. we have (on the way)- wall art, sound installation and a thermal project!

perhaps the internet isn’t all it’s cracked up to be! Social networking – i’d rather be glueing basal wood.

how much of us should we publicly share?

Today’s question following on from yesterday’s blog- and here it is …

How much of ourselves should we, as artists, expose to the public?

Social Networking- first it was status updates, then it was the drivel of random thoughts, now it’s all the pictures we “like”, stolen from other peoples “mood boards / nature tables”.. i do all of this. But should i?

by uploading / downloading our every thought- are we sharing diluting the artistic narrative? Art snares the reader by not fully explaining itself, Art builds tension through slight gestures of the hand; hinting to the reader what might happen. Can we do this- when our inner thoughts are fully laid out for all to see in this social medial expose?

Who Am I ?

my question to you all is – what do you call yourself when faced with the question “what do you do? “

….having just moved to the countryside f, a small home counties village to be exact(ish) i found myself in a precarious situation this week. Here was the gist of the conversation

Setting – Village Pub, 7.15 pm.

Woman A “Hello, I believe that we’re neighbours; My names Beatrice”.

Me “Hello, i’m Eleanor I’m sorry for not coming round yet, it’s just been such a chaotic week.

Woman A “ So i hear you work in the city”

Me “ actually i’m an artist, specialising / generalising in photography, sculpture and sound… but for three day’s a week i work in the city”

Woman A “ Oh”

Pause

Woman A “ So where should i be investing my money?”

and here’s when i stumbled… how do i explain who and what, i am?

Yes i do technically work in the city(part time), but that’s only to allow me to make art, un-beholden to buyers and galleries.

but it did make me think , who am i… really? am i a banker trying to be an artist, or an artist whose hiding behind the security of a job unwilling to go to galleries because “i don’t have to”..

untitled

starting work in a new environment is never easy- well it’s not for me. I’m now sitting in my new “studio” –it’s a shed at the bottom of the garden. I’m surrounded by trees, and I’ve got Wimbledon on.

This new change in lifestyle has been a catalyst to start making work again. Really making work- not just toying with the idea! So sketchbook and writing pad to hand- together with a new fountain pen; I’m brainstorming. Taking all the ideas that have been floating around my head for the last two years and I’m laying them out.

What ideas I’ve had, some ok, some terribly and some- well I’m embarrassed to hold a MA. So with three projects that I think are goers I begin with the “making”. And I stumble on the first hurdle. Do I title the work now- or when it’s finished?

A tutor once said to me “compendium, why do you relentlessly title your work at the end, give it a name at the beginning and then see where it takes you”. Here is my stumbling block. Should we leave our minds blank of titles until the end- fearing they may influence the work , or introduce a title and let it be the steering rod?

Reflections|London

having lived in London for the past 10 years i’m moving out this weekend. During this time; i’ve changed, the work has changed. but have i / it changed for the better? and what will happen to the work now?

my first question: can we ever really strike a perfect balance between art and life.. the real life that embodies paying bills, that is? the poetics of the artist lies in the image of the rat ridden basement, where a promising worker struggles to create; whilst supporting themselves working nights in a downbeat bar.

that wasn’t my choice, i chose to live and work in the City. i chose a job which meant that i worked part time and could make work, but I got caught up by city life. i wonder whether the path not chosen should have been the one i followed. Have I got so comfy in the current setup that i’ve drowned my creativity? and will it come back?

my Second Question: Do you need to get out of the toxicity in order to successfully make stimulating work?

can we make work about our surroundings whilst embroiled in it? You live it, breathe it, sweat it and does the work really live up to the expectations once you’ve finished it?

if you can’t tell, this move to the country is with intrepidation. i’m worried. worried i’ll loose my sense of self. worried i’ll start creating fluffy montages of bunnies…

or perhaps i’ll go about my daily life with a couple of hours spent at the WI and a couple on a saturday making cucumber sandwiches for the cricket team?