Page 207 – a-n The Artists Information Company

  Add a blog post BLOGS  STUDENT  1:23:58 A.M. OILS ON CANVAS. ARCHIVES  19 January 21 1:23:58 A.M. Oils on Canvas. A study of mental illness. Fine Art student At 1: 23: 58 A.M. this mans life was over, he […]

I was unsure where my work was going or what it was meaning. I contacted my peers/people outside of uni to get some help. I was told to reflect on my work I had done from L5 to L6, to […]

Early in my uni days, when I was struggling to settle into city ways as much as general homesickness, my mother, paraphrasing Dolly Parton, told me, that I am a country girl. Which means I can do anything; I can […]

#04 I 10:18 The soil from my mother’s garden crunches in the hand shells of snails accumulated grit roots as strong and delicate as greying hairs. Ground that welcomes rain and pushes between toes on bare feet leaving marks like […]

The passing of time allow experiences to overlap, layers of the landscape build to suspend layers of memory and history. Sedimental layers preserved in time, captured and held in place suspended in the land unseen, waiting for us to reimagine […]

Grid Ref: SJ 6886 9546 Over the coming weeks I will be revisiting Little Woolden Moss, reacquainting myself with this old friend. When we walk within a landscape, move around it, feel it, listen to it, we begin to translate […]

Until about a month ago I imagined that I would standing in Gallery 1 of the Artists’ Club in Uppsala right now. This afternoon should have been the opening of my show there, instead I am enjoying a peaceful afternoon […]

Neil Young is playing somewhere in the cottage, leaking up through the floorboards. Outside there is a tempting winter sun, turning browns gold and shimmering. I wish I could walk. Take a stroll. Face the pain. 31 and housebound.  

its saturday morning, bright sulight streams through the dining room window.  in the distance i can see trees and willow proudly motionless in the sun.  i glance at the lit stove, it’s light sending heat into the living room.  my […]

What follows is a transcript of the previous, handwritten post: How do I see drawing? What is its purpose for me? A long time ago a drawing was something done on paper with a pencil. Its purpose was to record […]

The tin-can clink of blackbirds’ calls punctuate the quiet of dusk. Plumes of crows boiled up into the sky this afternoon, sharp, black, paper-cut silhouettes, scattered over a blinding white sky. Everything looks drained of colour, bleached out, as if […]