One man’s rubbish is another man’s gold. I have collected more material that I can use to create more machines for the soap factory, and I am looking forward to doing so, as it has been a while. Due to a technical problem in the work shop and a lack of material to work with, I was stumped. All of this has been ratified and I will be able to continue forward with my creation.
Interview. Dont no what this is about, but it happened.
Saturated beauty in reverse. I wanted to create something that represented the vivid imagery in my subconscious collection, although I find the collection I have developed disturbing, I have not gone into and do not wish to unlock that door to the darkest recesses of my mind, there is a subtle beauty to the complicated riddle of my mind, to which I do not have the answer, and I am trying to create my work to find oneself in the confusion of my limbo. Each creation is a failure for my search for the answer, when it seems it’s there, it slips through my hands back in to the dark recesses to once it came. Nothings tangible, just an imprint of something I don’t know. My work is unsuccessful in giving me my answers to who I am and what do I represent. Each work seems to make the task of finding out much harder, the burden of being a artist is sometimes exhausting and I know I absorb too much, then somehow them feelings thoughts and clips of the day get amplified and I get lost in the cultural mess to which is in me, the way is clear and yet unclear, the work is a way of exorcising the things I have absorbed, for a moment of peace till the next overwhelming wave of ill thoughts provoke again, I am fighting with myself, with a battle I know I will never win.
Progress and tomorrows trip. Another day, not much to be said. I have fashioned a new crucible, which is the perfect size for the furnace, and I have made some decent ingots. I’m getting ready for the sand casting, which I hope to proceed with soon. I am going to a fly tip tomorrow, which is always exciting, so I will see what I can bring back to melt.
London and today. Spent the weekend in London to get away from my project, to be a viewer instead of an artist, as my art is controlling my moods, and the constant repeating and amplification of my stored memories, fuelling my work take their toll in tormenting me. It was a failure, the weekend did not release me, as the images I have in my head I can not remove, they are a constant screening of what I have seen, and the only time I feel at rest is through the completion of a work, for a brief second, and then they play again. I feel cursed for my premonition for future work I haven’t created and a thirst I can not quench.
