On Tuesday I went for a trip to london I soon found myself walking the streets, reminiscing in my mind about the times I use to make these trips with my parents. (It seems like such a long time ago. although thinking about it, it’s probably only been a few years) I soon found myself walking out of south Kensington Station and the sun was shining and the overall mood and atmosphere was a relaxing one. before to long i made my way to the V&A walking through the main doors the shear size of the place struck me, I had forgotten how big the place actually was. but before i could take it all in i was pulled to one side by a security guard, once I got myself through the typical london style security stops (because I had a bag) i was able to walk around freely.
I love walking around museums and galleries. there is something about theses places that just seem to make you forget about the world outside like everything just stops. some rooms are so quiet that your footsteps echo through the room and you become so continuous of your own presents amongst history. that it almost switches and you feel like every step you take, every move you make is echoing through history and history is silently judging you.
As I was walking round looking at the works in the cabinets i started to reflect on my own work and the way i have to keep everything locked away in draws or in boxes. this is in a way making sure everything is safe and has its own home. but it’s also because i feel that each item has its own use and is equal in value.
this makes me think about the way i treat my books. i have no love for books as the actual reason for there existence, Their purpose. so why the bloody hell have i become so damn connected to them? i wouldn’t typically think that i am a hoarder. i like things put away.
I soon find my train of thought broken as i look at some medieval looking statuse. i start to think more how much we as a race have grown. if i was a dyslexic growing up in these times, i wonder what life would be like? if you’re a commoner working the fields, chances are it wouldn’t make that much difference because you wouldn’t have ever been talt how to read. so it wouldn’t have made that much impact on your life. but what if you was connected to some royal house, if you was a lord or lady of some place. where it was expected of you to be able to do these sort of things. i wondered how it would have affected your life?
I start to think about bringing sculpture back into my work and making more of a big bold statement for my final outcome.
