A few days ago I started to write about a new work that I am particularly excited about, and before that, a question I had posed to myself about minimalism. Both references are to the same piece of work. But I wasn’t ready to show it, and the principal reason is this: the work is finished, in the sense that the physical execution is done: a tiny, tiny, tiny gesture. That was my objective, but it is also the problem: the word ‘gesture’. It sounds like a shrug of the shoulders, or a flicker of indifference. Nonchalant. Yet there was so much thought invested before I made the ‘mark’ (I couldn’t possibly tell you over how much time – it would sound insane). Then, afterwards, consolidating those thoughts to verify to myself that I had achieved what I set out to do, followed by thinking of an appropriate title that didn’t undermine everything. It all adds up to something which is so inversely proportional to the gesture that I am left with a feeling somewhere between uneasiness and elation. Oddly, that might be a good thing.
Imagine the noise if social media was spoken, rather than written.
I managed to file my tax return in (reasonably) good time. I will try to do it as soon as possible after the 5th of April this year (That sounds like a resolution. It’s not. Either I get on with it, or I don’t. I see no point in waiting to the end of the year to make a decision to do something). Doing my accounts ought to be getting easier by rights – as an artist the pile of receipts will always be higher than the pile of invoices. Jeez.
I made a couple of barely perceptible tweaks to my website, most notably removing my statement. I decided that it may stay feeling ‘fresher’ if it is not under my nose. I haven’t added any new work for the moment. There is one in particular that I am excited about, but I’m not ready to show it as yet.
I was surprised by the number of people on the normally-deserted-beach this morning, presumably there to see the eclipse. They, like me, would have been disappointed. There was just too much sea-fog. The colour of the light seemed different, though, hinting at what was concealed.
I have been reflecting on another new work, but this time I think I am going to be frustrated. The problem is scale. The piece won’t be enormous, but it will be too large to pass through an ordinary door. If I can’t make it so that it can be dismantled (which is what I have planned for another large piece), I will have two choices as I see it: one is not to make the piece at all. The other is to make a smaller version, and hope that I can use it to persuade someone to provide suitable working space and storage for a full size version. I am confident that I would be able to find exhibition space once it is made (I have to be, don’t I?). It is hard not to envy those artists who have huge workshops.
