Jon Burgerman for christmas

Didn't actually get Jon Burgerman himself for Christmas (although that would have been lovely). But I was a very, very lucky girl to recieve this proof from a recent print run. Am insanely pleased with it. (Getting it framed in my village was a traumatic process though...)

Jon Burgerman was in the year below me at Nottingham Trent University. Different courses though. I did Theatre Design, he did Fine Art. I didn't really know him, but he was one of the faces around and about. I love his work. It properly makes me tick. And am now the ridiculously proud owner of this....

This is his website http://www.jonburgerman.com/



Following Charlotte Taylor



'This picture provided me with my vision for my new collection. My new label. My new life.' Charlotte Taylor on launching her label


During London Fashion week last February Rowena Rosiepop and myself met Charlotte Taylor at Vauxhall Fashion Scout. Her work was lovely and has really stuck with me over the past months. Made me chuckle slightly. A delightfully quirky element of humour. Penguins. Waddling. Old ladies. Waddling. Colour. Proper colour. Slightly muted. English landscapy. Seasidy in a bleak way (god I adore bleak. Am sure I've mentioned that before...). The work appealed to my own sense of aesthetic. The colours are those that exist in my life. It kind of struck a chord. Deep down. On a base level somewhere. Maybe it reminded me a bit of visiting home? 

Charlotte Taylor keeps a very thorough (and excellent) blog. I've followed her progress since since that February morning (am obsessively fascinated with the creative process... spend hours scrutinizing my own... nurturing it in my students... idling over quick sketches and any jotty notebooks belonging to creative type folks...). And the blog provides a beautiful insight into Charlotte's creative process. I can see the starting point, the initial photographs she was inspired by, the journey, and that makes all the difference. For me the work has its story...

Charlotte was lovely too. She was down to earth. Wanted to talk. To explain. To me she brings a really honest approach to the fashion industry. And the really fantastic thing is that people are buying her work. Proper people. People who make discerning fashion desicions. And everytime I read about the Charlotte Taylor label, or stumble across an article (which is frequently) I have a little smile...

 It was the launch of her label and I really, really hope it continues to go well.

Ps.Just realised why it works. I think. Integrity. So often missing.... For me the entire creative process of Charlotte Taylor has integrity.


PPs.Oooh almost forgot to mention the robots.....

All images are attributed to http://charlotte-taylor.blogspot.com/

Detail from some new stuffs in progress

Some terrible, inconsistent images from new work. Mixed media more and more. Work in progress. Still making it...The notion of layering is becoming stronger. Won't leave me alone. Will be incorporating glass. Becoming complex but that's ok. I think...

Circles. Sketchbook. Playing

 Still circles. As ever....

The Tate no longer shines for me

 I fear the Tate Modern is losing it's shine. For years and years it's made me happy. Raised my spirits... in a sort of nourishing, sustaining type of way. But this time I just feel a bit flat. Deflated. I adore the building... that has not changed... perhaps I felt that even more strongly than on previous visits. Maybe it's because the anticipation of the building, the space, was so great that the collections could do nothing but leave me feeling frustrated. Maybe I shouldn't have spent so long in the Turbine Hall. But that's the bit that does it for me. Felt a bit cathedral-like with the sun filtering through its vastness. Could have should have stayed there. The sunflower seeds were... er.... intriguing... because of the sheer volume (that thing again about visualising enormous numbers that is still haunting me). How many where there? Quite amazing actually. Beautiful porcelain. I would have loved to kept one. But that's very naughty and I'm very good. Anyway... forced myself to leave the Turbine Hall and head up to the galleries.

 It's not that the work was bad. Or of no significance. It's just that it didn't feel right. The whole point of art is that it touches or affects you in some way. And it just didn't. (Not like the Baltic). The spaces felt crammed. Not used well. I didn't understand the connections. Also too busy. Felt like merely a tourist attraction. I was on a converyer belt being taken from one room to the next. Integrity? Not sure. Won't go back. Life is too short....

Had intented to go to the amazing Saatchi Gallery instead. But it was shut. Grrrrrrrr....

In the Bleak Midwinter

 Traditionally I hate the 2nd of January. National hangover day. Back to work if your not a teacher day. My birthday. Last year I  seriously considered changing it to something more friendly, less hardcore, like the 2nd of July. But no. My mum went through several days of labour and that is when I arrived. Three decades and some ago. So January the 2nd it is. I always plan to do something. So that I can pretend to the world that I'm happy. Having a good time. Pleased that everywhere is closed. Pleased that everyone is broke. On my thirtieth everywhere was really and genuinley closed. I had fish and chips with my nearest and dearest on the dining room floor. Can't quite remember why it was the floor... Anyway. This year, today, somehow went to plan. Was tentatively quite perfect. The Yorkshire Sculpture Park. Again (of course). Nothing had changed. No new works. But that was what made it right. I like that that things change so slowly there. I need the YSP to be constant. I rely on it. The seasons change around the artworks. That's what works for me. Today was about wrapping up warm. Donning wellies. Watching my daughter run with her cousins. Pretending to sound knowledgeble to my brother. Showing off my beloved sculpture park to people I love and willing them to love it too. Today I actually quite liked my stupid birthday...