The edges of people don’t stop at their skin… This phrase arrived in a poem I wrote over a year ago, before the collaborative/joint exhibition with Bo Jones. I suspect this post might meander about a bit, but I feel […]
A couple of weeks ago I bought a second-hand crochet piece on-line, half bib, half collar. I wanted to add it to my small collection of outfits&objects that help me explore, call into, fall into, the time my dad was a […]
When Sonia Boué tweeted b/w images from the Oxford-London train of the globetrotter-suitcase and later her face she seemed a time-traveller from the 30s/40s, on her way to meet me at a flat temporarily located in 2014’s London (so I […]
I have become obsessed with a Mickey Mouse look-alike! Didn’t think I’d ever write that sentence and certainly not in the context of my project, but there it is. You may remember the images of toys at the end of […]
Earlier this year I went back to Hungary. I haven’t been for many years but every visit I make the pilgrimage to my Grandmothers apartment, the ancestral home as it were. When I was a child, we’d go visit every […]
The last ten days have been particularly tired, physically as well as mentally: limbs leaden and airy, resisting coherence; pockets of pain here and there, sewn to skin; fleeting periods of full alertness and acuity. Doubts though, about my oh, so very […]
One night a couple of weeks ago my hands seemed half mine, half other, their tops as I knew them, but my palms hurt badly and felt as large as a giant’s: not swollen but grown or grafted on, and one with […]
It’s been good to have a break from blogging. I’ve missed the opportunity to communicate with you, and the discipline&framework of purposeful writing, which helps cut temporary paths through snarls of work&words and fuzzy ideas, but I felt mentally exhausted […]
Even when I do something that I initially believe to be unconnected to the rest of my work, it turns out not to be after all. I find this hugely comforting but also exciting, liberating… because it means I can […]
After this week’s hospital appointment it’s official – P.O.T.S. meds aren’t working, and I’m to come off. I knew, I did; daily tried not to; stayed on those pills for months beyond the doctor’s orders, speaking mantras when popping, willing my […]
When my Soldier’s child came back from an exhibition a while ago, it occurred to me that my father had been a soldier’s child too. His father had fought in WWI and returned with a disease of the heart (not metaphorically speaking). […]
Today I’m fully in the present. The responses to my last post have stretched my safety-net to far corners and I want to share with you how moved I am by the generosity, compassion and creative spirit I have encountered. […]
In his later years, my father had a woman, Timéa (Timi) who came to help with the cooking and cleaning. After he died and I took on the house I decided that it made sense for her to keep coming. […]
In 2010 I was invited to participate in a small group show with artists Melanie Stidolph (www.melaniestidolph.com) and Richard Paul (www.richardgpaul.co.uk) called Pareidolia. This is a phenomenon that describes the human mind’s tendency to perceive recognizable shapes and images in […]
This blog looks at the reoccurring themes that manifest in and influence my work considering where they might come from.
Added Bright to my name as homage to my Dad who inspired my love of art.This blog is about my journey through the BA and MA. Looking back it’s interesting to see how I keep returning to swimming as a theme. But hopefully with greater depth of understanding each time.
My art grows around me. My flat is filled with objects I have made over the last few years. There is always something going on, something new developing. But this creativity in the living-room, due to M.E. my only possibility, […]
Chantal Powell, Siren, bird cage, metallic.
Lida Abdul, White house, Kabul, 16mm transfer to DVD, 4’58”, 2005. Courtesy: the artist and Giorgio Persano Gallery
“We may think we are going to [objects] for knowledge about the past, but it is the knowledge we bring to them that makes them historically significant, transforming a more or less chance residue into a precious icon.” Raphael Samuel, Theatres of Memory
Claire Douglass describes the work that she made during her recent residency in Hackney.
