2019 has been a year of drama and reflection. I'm still trying to figure out my footing. In no particular order, here are some thoughts on where I am.
I joke that I have to avoid the news in order to work with eggshells, but when the very foundations of your country seem to be at the breaking point, the news is hard to ignore. Being an immigrant simply means watching the two countries I'm connected to get taken over by factions that I don't believe have our best interests at heart. Additionally, I don’t want to be a person who can turn away from the chaos and heartbreak in the rest of the world, even if I’m unable to do much about it. But the balance of being informed vs overwhelmed can be a fine one.
My old career as a puppeteer came in handy this summer. I joined a team building parade puppets for climate protests. It was lovely to use that part of my brain again, but it also reminded me why I decided to move on from puppetry: the restrictions on creation that inspire me and that I embrace get compromised in larger formats. I give up too much for not enough in return, and all the while I feel I'm not doing a good job.
My last posted sculpture threw me for a while, but perhaps not for the obvious reasons. The plastic unsettled me. It just felt out of place and wrong. I've realised that the materials I’ve used in the past few years are natural materials I've collected or that would otherwise be thrown out. Purchasing a pre-made thing was entirely out of keeping with values I hadn’t yet articulated to myself. I think if I'd used real teeth I'd be less disturbed by the end effect even if you, the viewer, had been more so!
This jarring feeling of being disconnected from my materials has clarified my principles, and made obvious to me that being a conscientious artist requires the long view: what I create today might just be future rubbish. That may sound harsh, but there is so much stuff in the world already, I want what I contribute to be worthy of the space. When it is no longer of value, I want my work to decompose as part of the regenerative cycle inherent in natural things. Perhaps not coincidentally, the work that has captured my interest over the past few months has been centred around mending. Taking what we have and making the most of it.
I think of my creativity as a garden that must be tended but also left to do its own thing. Every field needs a fallow period to maintain fertility, but sometimes the resulting harvest is a surprise. I'm finally ready to return to the studio and explore. I have no real idea where my creativity will lead next, only that I am bound to follow. I will keep you posted.