Sometimes I hate my own work, especially when I feel as though it’s been too heavily influenced by what I think I should be doing for this degree. I hate it so much I consider throwing either it or myself out of my window. I have been known to set my work on fire. Constantly in a state of discontent with it, once finished, unless bought and out of sight, I want to change it, add to it, I just want to ruin it all over again until I like it, prior to disliking it, prior to hating it. It’s like a never ending cycle.
‘An artist should never be a prisoner of himself, prisoner of style, prisoner of reputation, prisoner of success.’
– Henri Matisse
This evening I discovered that Cy Twombly was a man. I’m not sure why I was convinced he was a woman. Perhaps it’s his painting style or choice of colour, who knows. I am genuinely surprised and now potentially more impressed by his work.
My mother and I had a rather heated debate on the phone this morning, about just ‘playing the game’ and attempting to understand the way universities work. I told her I can’t stand to be sat in another windowless studio surrounded by distractions, surrounded by people. She couldn’t believe the studios were without windows. Stick the contemporary artists under the artificial lighting and see how fast they’ll grow. Speaking of artificial lighting, my tomato plants are beginning to grow: http://t.co/5uwzLq2d A video relating to this post: http://player.vimeo.com/video/26534169
