Trainers. Pencil. Carole Day
Geranium on the Windscreen. Felt tip and brush. Carole Day
Strange Objects
Every so often in my life I have come across strange objects in unexpected places that cannot easily be explained. I find these encounters puzzling but also stimulating, and, of course, some artists make these the basis of their work.
Perhaps one of the most curious of these occurred when I was living in Twickenham and travelled to and from work on the 65 Bus. I was travelling home one day, on the top deck, where I liked to sit and enjoy the view, when the bus stopped, and there, on top of the bus shelter, was a fully decorated birthday cake, complete with candles (unlit) but untouched and looking to be in perfect condition.
How did it get there I wondered? Maybe some disgruntled birthday celebrant had thrown it there from the top of the bus or from the adjacent houses – although this seemed unlikely, surely it would have been damaged. Perhaps in a drunken stupor, or for a bet, a birthday guest had scaled the shelter to place it there – who can say?
Closer to home, I left the house one morning to drive to work in my car, a Mini Clubman my brother had given me. Inexplicably I found, wedged behind each windscreen wiper, a geranium plant complete with the soil ball but no pot. Who had put them there and why, and where they came from, I had no idea. A well-wisher who knew I loved gardening? Who knows, I never found out.
A similar incident occurred whilst I was living in St. Margarets, but this time specifically aimed at me – I found a pack of Café Crème cigars, which I smoked at the time, on my windowsill in the front garden. Although it must have been someone who knew me, I never discovered who had, I supposed thoughtfully, left them there.
Later in life my husband, Edwin and I moved to East Kent and I started a course in Art and Design. We often used to visit Margate and the various galleries there: the Pie Factory, Crate Space and Limbo, where I later exhibited and held workshops. In the forecourt of Limbo, on a tree opposite the entrance, hanging from one of the highest branches, a pair of trainers, tied together were dangling down. How they got up there it is hard to imagine, but there they were. Perhaps one of those artists whose practice deals with strange objects put them there as a subject, perhaps they were concealed nearby, recording the various reactions to their installation.
Some things in life are hard to explain and forever keep us guessing.
