The weight of domesticity

An image I made when I was about 19, shortly after my son was born.  This image was part of a series of photographs made with artist Christopher Brown.  We put together an exhibition on the theme of "Re-framing the Family".  I am wearing a widow twanky costume and a porcelain mask.  More images to follow.

From the Red Slippers to Plato's Cave

I have always loved the rich feminine symbolism of 'the red slippers'.  They are so clearly a symbol of female sexuality and abound in fairy stories and art alike.  

There have been times in my life when the image of the red slippers has resonated with me very strongly, at times of transition or when I've felt lost; the red slippers have come to me asking for my attention, drawing me to them like clues. 

The slippers above were inherited from an aunt and are amongst my most treasured possessions.  They 'appeared' in a recent drawing entitled "Guidance".*  The two monoprints above and below were made in my twenties and are based on these slippers.

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I treasure my slippers, but I think I treasure their image, what they represent, the ideas they transmit more so.  

Images are especially important to me, I think in images and images communicate to me.  If I pay careful attention, if I listen, they are like little gifts communicating valuable information that I could not receive any other way.  Images are my soul food.

I consider myself to be an image-maker, the image may come in any number of forms - a mono-print, a drawing, a performance, a photograph or video.  The medium is the vehicle for the transmission of the image, but the image is more important to me.  ( I guess I am more aligned to Plato's Theory of Forms than I am to Marshall McCluhan's "the medium is the message").

For me images have the power to act on you, like medicine, over time they work their magic,  something seeps in, is communicated.  To make and respond to an image takes time.  

Making my work has required periods of introversion and isolation.  My practice as an artist, is an attempt to communicate that which cannot be put into words, to find images that  resonate and connect firstly to myself and hopefully to others.  From time to time I need to go back to Plato's Cave.  

A Doll's House

Early work from student days, in-between taking a Foundation Course in Art and Design, and going on to take a Degree Course in Fine Art.  I spent the summer of 1993 working in collaboration with Christopher Brown on a series of photographs on the theme of "Re-framing the Family".  The series of photographs was an attempt to understand and give images to my situation as a teenage single mum.  In the doll's house is a passport photograph of me and my son aged about 19 and 2 respectively. Through the window can be seen my hands on my heavily etched stretch-marked belly.

More images and text to follow.

Dreamboats

This is a picture of many years worth of dream diaries transformed into little boats, traveling across the floor of Freud Cafe, Oxford.  The dream-boats were made during a piece entitled "Out of the Blue" performed with artist Rachel Carvosso and contributed to an evening of Live Art curated by artists Ann Rapstoff and Hilary Kneale.  

Artists and Insects

When I was pregnant I had a re-occurring dream that my baby was a little insect, a little green insect, s/he was so delicate and kept falling out of my womb prematurely.  I had to make sure she did not escape until she was more firmly developed and ready to be born.  

After my mum died I remember finding a little dead insect and for the first time I really looked at the face of an insect, for a moment I was sure I saw my mother staring back at me.  I was so struck by her facial features, by this beautiful tiny insect with such an intriguing face.  I made a little film of the insect and subsequently an insect face in clay, and some mono-prints. 

At times of birth and death the image of an insect came to me.  Insects work tirelessly, regulating our lives in the most profound ways, without them most ecosystems would fail, we would not survive without them.  Like a good mother they work trustily, processing, nurturing,  and regulating life on earth, and yet they go overlooked.  

As an artist I have my antennae out, picking up on feelings, moods, and undercurrents. Sometimes I need to withdraw in order to process what I am sensing, what I am picking up. Eventually over time sense impressions become images that perhaps have the potential to mirror back, to communicate, to fertilise our cultural landscape.  Like the insect/baby in my womb they need the correct amount of containment and nourishment before they are ready to be born/seen.  

Text and Image

I have always enjoyed the physical act of writing, together with making images, these early experiments made as a student seem to sum up my love of text and image, text as image.

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Details

Here are some close-up details of a painting I made for a  friend in 2008.  In the foreground was her portrait and in the background this woody landscape.  I think I prefer these details to the final piece.  

Taking a drink for a walk

One day I decided to walk to my studio from North Oxford to East Oxford instead of my usual cycle ride, I think because my bicycle had broken down and I had no money. 

The walk became engrossing as I noticed so many little details of my journey at a slower pace.  I took several hours as I stopped to talk to a friend, pick various herbs by the side of the road and hawthorn berries in the University parks.  

When I finally got to my studio I decided to make a book about my walk, it documents my thoughts, encounters, and impressions on the way.  I also had in my pocket the selection of herbs I had picked so I put on the kettle, made my book and drank my walk.