Apparently it’s important to blog. One must blog. Therefore: Here There Be Blog.
I am currently working on a large installation in a shopping centre. It is my Magnum Opus. (Or at least the most magnum-opussy thing I’ve done so far.) This is basically the hardest I’ve worked in my life, and possibly the most stress I’ve been under. I wait with interest to discover whether I will a) complete the project and b) remain sane.
As a massive introvert, I find working in the goldfish bowl of an empty shop fairly agonizing. Feel v performing monkey-ish, and wish for a hutch at the back I could irritate the crowd by hiding in all day.
Public response generally quite encouraging, tho – lots of ‘wow’ and ‘cool’ as people walk by. (Which is weird for me, actually, because I’m more used to having to defend my art – positive response leaves me rather on the back foot.) But the encouraging noises have been tempered by the odd grunt with a ‘my-five-year-old-could…’ flavour. One man felt moved to come in purely to tell me that what I was doing didn’t constitute a ‘proper day’s work’. My assistant buffered me (bless her – although I rather think it was him who needed the buffering…) asking him to suggest what he thought art should be. Apparently art should be pastoral landscapes. With cows. And windmills. Quite specific then.
Every day is the same as I work my 12 hour shifts in the glare of glass, marble, and downlighters. I have no sense of the time of day or, indeed, what day it actually is. Just a constant awareness of my controlled hysteria as I fail, yet again, to achieve the glut of tasks I had set myself to complete that day.
Actually the single most depressing thing about The Centre is the little birds that get trapped inside and live their whole lives there. They have indoor trees and leftover burgers – they can live. But they must think that this is it – this is the world! Poor little misled bastards! It’s like Plato’s cave-mall.
Anyway – I’ll keep you posted. If you’re interested…
