Bare Bones

Sometimes things just work out right – not often, but sometimes. A couple of days ago I posted a question in the know how section of the forums, asking a tricky point of copyright query on a song I wanted to use.

Last night we had a couple I’ve only recently got to know round for dinner and we were discussing what we were up to etc. I told my copyright predicament as Steve has a connection with programming for film making and discovered that his wife Dawn was a consultant for the BBC, specialising in the copyright law of music used in film etc for most of her career – how jammy was that, so got a reply straight from the horses mouth as it were. Result!

I think I must be the biggest put-er off-er alive and the best vehicle for putting off work is this damn blog. So here I am with an update, when what I should be doing is working out a fiercely mathematically challenging angle for a frame and continuing with my ACE activity report. So far I have googled Sandra Bullock at the Razzies, gazed hypnotically at the favourites statistics pie chart on Axis, wondering who the hell is on the blue bit and browsed through 174 opportunites, none of which I can apply for without selling the children, giving up any paid work and living off leaves.

Anyhow, writing the ACE report has made me realise what a different place I am in as far as my work is concerned than I was a year and a half ago. With or without the funding, (although of course we would all plump for the with) the process of planning out research and development, furiously focussing on the justification of every detail, and mapping out a schedule for moving forward positively in my practice has been a huge pain in the ass but (and I don’t know why I’m surprised) paid off immensely. I now feel I know where I am. I have a really clear concept of the work I want to produce and in a way, it feels like there’s a robustly solid directional base to work from. It’s good, and it’s taught me a strategy to work with in the future.

Anyhow, filmaking is being held up at the moment, partly due to a vist from a little friend – and their millions of siblings. Nits are back, and with four long and curly heads to treat repeatedly for the next few weeks, my carpal tunnel has gone into overdrive, some days it is just so hard to be a parent and an artist. Talking to Cathy Wilkes last year, also a parent of young children, even with the success she has had (Turner prize nomination etc) she too has often thought of throwing in the towel. Some days are just tough and unfortunately, the blog is not only a good put-er off-er, but the first place to head when you want to get it off your chest – I just have one imperitive blogging rule, never after the G&T watershed, that would be fatal!

Haven’t had much time to think about my own work as this week is choca with schools projects. I bundled the children into breakfast club on Monday the minute the doors opened with a quick shout of – ‘the gluten free one has had breakfast, the others haven’t’ to be met with the news that breakfast isn’t served on a Monday, oops, kissed all and whizzed off to Swindon to work with the hospital school (making a permanent piece for the children’s unit entrance).

As with all hospital projects, the original proposal bears no resemblance to the final work, due to every conceivable material being rejected by infection control/militant fire officer. We finally settled on plaster so there we were, plaster casting in a tiny room, on the ward, with a beautifully carpeted floor which, due to the rigours of health and safety, could not be covered in any shape or form with sheeting, now – that’s what I call a challenge.

What a priviledge though, to see one ten year old girl, stroll in in her nightie, clutching her side, with the most reluctant and unhappy expression imaginable on her face, an hour later, up to her elbows, mixing plaster, smiling and totally engrossed in her work and shooing the consultant away, who had come to take her for a scan. To share in an experience with those children, which for a few hours, helped them leave all their difficulties aside, was truly precious, – messy and fun.

Back at my regular school job, we wrestled our 12ft dragon sculpture (on a cold, grey day in Feb we thought, what can we build that will be massive and we can paint wild colours on) onto some sheeting on the carpet and managed to involve 30 children in total to paint it without spilling a drop. On leaving I offered my own children an upgrade on their pocket money for the person that picked up the most bits off the floor. They all went crazy and in her excitement Erin ran over the sheet, covered her shoes in red paint then ran twice around the carpeted room for good measure. Another hour cleaning up and a swift G&T later and I was almost human again.

Back to the studio again tomorrow and a day to myself – yeh!

I’m not sure how to start this post really, things have kind of changed for me – the end of my ACE R&D time is in view, perhaps I’m letting go of this naturally.

Our crit group met last week,( I say group if you can call it that – we were reduced to two – everyone else was either sick/working etc.)

We trudged through the rain across the decommissioned weapons site, oddly surrounded by quietly, rolling Wiltshire countryside and gazed at the frustatingly un-used empty buildings, perfect for group studio space – (do you ever see a space like that and you literally drool at the potential?). To set up something like that though, you need to start with a really strong group of local artists – the space you can find if you look hard enough -and so, for the moment it will have to remain simply an idea. I, for one, have other things to focus on.

Laurence and I chatted about her work and the opportunites locally – and how to move forward, perhaps encouraging the nearest organisation (Aspace, Southampton) to move forward on the idea of a crit group would be more fruitful, (we are so few with so many other commitments) – we’ll see.

As for me, I’ve sent off my proposals to the galleries in N.Ireland, I’m itching to get in the studio again, and I’ve been talking to people, people who have sent me on to other people, and they in turn to others, I’ve never done so much talking – when all I really want to do is immerse my self in making, and forget the rest.

Day 2 of my Trip to Northern Ireland

I’d forgotten how fond I am of Belfast. Due to visiting relatives etc, I realized I have probably never walked around Belfast city alone since I left 25 years ago.I can’t put into words just how it feels to do so after all this time – living with the Troubles was a natural existence for my generation, entering the city checkpoints, standing in line to be frisked, shaking out our umbrellas on front of armed policemen, laughing with the soldiers who boarded our bus to check under our seats for bombs, as a child this was my home, and to me, in my young view, it was a happy one. In the January sales people were so blasé with bomb scares, they had to be virtually dragged away from the cash desk when there was a bargain at stake, regardless of the soldiers ordering them out. Once peace came, it took us a year at least for people to stop automatically opening their handbags to be searched in every shop door they entered. Belfast is transformed now, shopping centres, entertainment, resturants, fast on it’s way to being European City of Culture and voted best weekend destination world wide last year. A few reminders of it’s history remain such as the DIY store with it’s gaffa tape advertised as ‘hostage tape.’ Belfast never had lost it’s sense of humour.

My two gallery visits today were really positive and now it’s just a case of going home to give the situation some more thought and prepare proposals etc. All in all, like everytime I return home, it has been an intensely emotional experience for me. As a young artist I held my largest solo show in the Arts Council gallery there, two vast car showrooms, ( the Arts Council gallery relocated more than once through bomb damage), – to go back would be in a sense to complete the circle, and somehow would satisfy something inside.