Keeping It Together

I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather following a nasty head cold. ‘It’s nature’s way of telling your body to slow down’ is what my Nana always used to say; I think she was right. Having a cold usually coincides with a drop in my hearing and I’m inclined to become a bit more reclusive when this happens. After the high drama of the studio move it’s felt like a relief to be honest; I think things needed to calm down a bit and so I’m grateful for this period of quiet time I’ve allowed myself.

Now that I’m getting back on course, I’m really aware of the benefits of writing this blog; thinking about it and writing it has already started to create a kind of discipline in my day to day life and I’m very glad in this respect that I started it when I did – it’s keeping me stimulated creatively and mindful of the dangers of procrastination and slipping off the radar – serving the same purpose as a studio in many ways.

I’ve also been without the internet over the past couple of days – I just got reconnected last night. Even though it was for a short time, I was surprised at how quickly I felt out of the loop with having no access to social networks. Writing this blog over the past few weeks has helped me feel effectively connected to fellow artists, welcomed as part of a community and has compensated in many ways for not having a studio.

Other social networks like Twitter have also helped me to ‘stay visible’ amongst my contemporaries, something I remember once hearing Bob & Roberta Smith say was an important part of being an artist. It’s not something I always find easy to do but it’s something I’ve nevertheless been aware of ever since. I’ve realised the importance of keeping in touch with what’s going on in the wider art community and responding to it.

I’ve noticed what a familiar theme community is on Artists Talking. I’m reading about so many other artists striving to feel a sense of belonging, whether it’s in an actual studio space or through virtual interaction. Not surprising really because at the heart of all of us there is an innate need for compassionate understanding from others. Whether or not this need is more pronounced amongst creative people I can’t be sure, but what I’m certain about is that such understanding nourishes the creative spirit and helps it to grow. We all have a fundamental desire to fit in, to feel a part of society and as the division between the haves and the have-nots grows ever wider, perhaps the need to be part of a like-minded community has become greater still.

I know for me a studio represents an emotional as well as a physical space; from past experience, having a studio has given me a clear understanding of the importance of my own personal space, one in which I’m able to completely absorb myself in my work – away from the distractions of domestic life – the clothes that need to be hung out, the carpets that need to be vacuumed and so on.

In terms of creating this past week, my output has been small. Some of my time has been spent catching up on what other artists have been up to – but for me this week Keeping It Together has been more about quiet reflection, space to think and generally slowing things down. Hopefully it’s the calm before the creative storm.

I’ve been surprised by how many times my thoughts have turned to this blog over the past few days. I wonder if the absence of colleagues at the studio to mull things over with is having an effect. Dialogue has always been an essential part of my life and as it is, writing this blog feels a bit like having someone to talk to.

I hadn’t imagined that I’d have that much to say to be honest but already I feel like I’m getting immersed in keeping some kind of journal, day by day accounts of what I’m up to in my newfound state, outside of a studio.

I’m enjoying the writing process and under present circumstances, it feels like a positive step, attaching myself to something that already feels like a useful and beneficial exercise. I’m grateful to those who took the time to speak at recent a-n events, to promote the advantages of writing a blog – it worked! And so, keeping it together in its many shapes and forms, continues…

I received an email this morning from an artist who is based in Deptford. She had only just heard the news about the sudden collapse of the studio complex I belonged to, was sorry to hear about it and said that it had left what she felt was ‘a sad gap’ in the area. I felt my studio’s absence acutely this Friday evening just gone when I passed by the empty space en route to Cockpit Arts. Open Studios in other studio complexes in the area were in full swing and instead of being a part of it, I was an outsider looking in; the ideas I’d had for my own Xmas Open Studio hadn’t had a chance to materialise.

But that email wasn’t the only one I received this morning; one was from Amnesty International and the other from Shelter – like a lot of things in life, it’s all a question of perspective – and in the grand scheme of things, not having access to a studio really isn’t that bad!

So I’ve dusted down some suitcases from the top of a wardrobe today with a view to getting on with some work around the kitchen table tomorrow; I’ve cleared the day especially and have stocked up with the necessary glue to get on with a sketchbook project, something I applied for way back in the Spring and needs to be completed and ready for sending by the end of January 2012.

The suitcases are crammed full of paper cuttings from various vintage magazines which I’ve collected over the years – images that for one reason or another had caught my eye and I knew one day would be used for something. I’ve had the collection some 20 to 25 years and a lot of the cuttings were collected in the States and shipped back to England in the late 1980s.

I applied to take part in a Sketchbook Project last spring – it’s an American project and I’ve been thinking about the irony of some of the images being sent back across the Atlantic to their original home in New York. I’m pleased to have the sketchbook to focus on – it’s like Rob Turner said, it’s important to keep producing the work.

My experience of being an artist has felt very different since losing my studio. Keeping It Together this past week has been all about coming to terms with some of the uncomfortable feelings associated with not always getting what you want.

The process of looking for an alternative space is ongoing and I’m hoping it won’t be too long now before I’m able to get back to what I now recognise was a pretty established studio routine. I miss having a studio and without it, I have at times felt a little bereft; because for me, having no studio space equates with not being surrounded by the familiar objects with which I normally work.

During this past month I have been quite literally stripped of all I know as a creative practitioner – deprived of the space and the vast lifelong collection of possessions I habitually surround myself with. Hardly surprising then that the recent upheaval has felt so unsettling – family holidays and other commitments aside, there haven’t been many days over the past five years or so when I haven’t been in at the studio. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that I’ve felt like I’ve been in a state of mourning. Now I simply can’t wait to be reunited with my belongings, unpack and reacquaint myself with them – and get back to work.

Being without a studio has at the same time created space for letting in other positive experiences and alternative ways of seeing. I’m aware that I haven’t produced any art this week, but in terms of thinking about my work, there has been a great deal of creative activity. Perhaps being away from the clutter of material possessions has freed me up to focus on what’s important to me at this particular moment. I feel I’m about to enter into a fresh and exciting period of creative output in the foreseeable future and I need to be focused.

New beginnings can be wonderfully productive and I’ve had space to think about how important being with like-minded people is to me, both on a personal level and in terms of the ongoing development of my art – people I can identify with and relate to, with a view to building a community of which I feel a part. And, having once been a public sector worker myself, Wednesday’s rally against pension cuts was a timely reminder of my fundamental belief in the importance of community and the need for continued social cohesion and a shared value system amongst fellow workers. I suppose you could call it Keeping It Together…

When you’re aware of things in your life potentially falling apart, you can go one way or the other – give up and go under, or go with the flow and somehow manage to keep your head above the water. It takes a conscious effort and a lot of patience and staying power to hang on in there – uncertainty is one of life’s hardest emotions to tolerate.

There are simply times in life when one’s faith in humanity needs restoring and these past few weeks have been such a time. Which is why I’m grateful to those who have taken the time to comment on my blog – encouraging, kind and empathetic words have instilled me with a sense of hope that everything will work itself out and be okay. I’ve had more contact with other artists over the past few days than I would in an average week in the studio, both through consciously making the effort to place myself ‘out there’ physically into the wider art community and through being active on social networks. And of course, through this blog.

I feel I’ve managed to keep it together – because for me, recent events have shown that my ‘survival’ has been as much about keeping together the community of artists to which I feel belong as it is about keeping myself and my creative practice together.

Wise words from artists like Rob Turner rob-turner.blogspot.com with a wealth of experience of working in art communities have helped enormously to keep me on track. As well as connecting me with another artist with whose work I share similarities, Rob pointed out the importance of what to him plays a fundamental part in keeping it together – to continue to create work. His words inspired me this week to carry on being an artist; creating and making in the way I know how – with or without a studio.

Consequently, ‘Belle’ was created, carefully packed and posted to Wakefield on Tuesday to help decorate a Christmas tree in a Winter Wonderland. aliceandbobcurate.wordpress.com And ‘Dust Collectors’ was started and completed as a symbol of what in real life my art materials are doing – collecting dust in a self-storage unit in deepest Deptford. ‘Dust Collectors’ is also representative of the reaction from those who have never understood the habit of collecting; those who consider anything not being used in a home as superfluous and unnecessary – ‘bloomin’ dust collectors – get rid of them!’

The generosity of spirit in response to my first ever post on this blog has been lovely to see and is also confirmation that the sharing and exploring of my ideas on Artists Talking can be done in a safe and supportive environment. Trust is paramount in order to feel truly at ease to tell it as it really is – the high points and the low of being an artist, warts and all. And so, thank you – to those who shared their thoughts with me – for a positive start and for your empathy and sensitivity.

I spent the summer taking a long hard look at the amount of stuff I have accumulated over the years. To put it into context, I have a lifetime collection of stuff – a lot of stuff! There’s a lot of me in those collections; my life in boxes – books, objects, photographs, memories of places, people, good times, not so good times – my past, secreted away.

It’s been dotted around various parts of SE London over the past five years or so following a house move, in the attics and garages of sympathetic family and friends. My former home had a large attic and an ‘out of sight, out of mind’ philosophy took over – I squirrelled it all away. I always knew I was going to do something with my collection one day and my long term aim has been (and still is!) to have it all in one space – essentially, keeping it together.

Slowly, the boxes found their way into my studio and the unravelling of a lifetime’s accumulation of possessions began. My focus over this past summer was sorting through them. Deciding what to keep versus what to get rid of became the order of many long hot sunny days. I even managed to visit and donate the book ‘Something I’ve Been Meaning To Tell You’ to The Museum Of Broken Relationships – now that felt constructive!

I always knew when I moved into my latest studio that time there was limited – however as ongoing talks and negotiations with the landlords came to an abrupt end some three weeks or so ago, we were given less than 48 hours to leave the premises. A community of artists was ripped apart and has had to find ways of coping with an upsetting & unsettling time. It’s been a rollercoaster ride of emotions – in one way or another, we’ve all been hurting.

I’ve taken solace in stacks of Bunty, Judy, Photo Love and other 1960-80s annuals from the book shelves at home. A therapist might say I’m subconsciously seeking out a happy ending … perhaps I am? I have no doubt however about how the recent chaos has forced me to focus on what’s important – what to keep, what not to keep in all senses of the word has raised its head once more and I’m left questioning again what it is that’s important. The boxes are stacked in a self-storage unit, I’m not even sure what’s in some of them or if the stuff has any relevance to my life as it is now. But I do know that it costs money to keep them there.

Keeping It Together is the start of my journey as a studioless artist. Where do I go from here? Where do I and my ‘stuff’, both literally and metaphorically, fit in? Where will I re-establish my practice and where will I feel more at home, both within myself and in relation to others?

The last ever exhibition, home, was held in the studio gallery to which my studio was attached. It’s not without irony that in its press release, home was described as:

‘fragile, transient, extraordinary, loaded … no longer a safe word but a loaded word and a delicate place, vulnerable to attack – both globally, financially and intimately.’

As a tribute to the photogaphic narratives of books such as Photo Love, the images I’ve chosen to share here follow the story of the past three weeks – from a safe place to an uncertain, chaotic one.