Finished some work

Ready to go to its new home...

The Baltic. My Second Time

The first time was well over a year ago. On a school visit. In a storm. The rain hammered down on the glass roof. And I loved it. I saw work by Sarah Sze and Harland Miller which shaped and tweaked a lot of my thoughts for the whole of last year. In my mind Sarah Sze's work is just phenonomal. Beyond anything I had seen before (and you had to see it. Images are just not enough). It opened old wounds for me about satiating my own creativity. Harland Miller's work was very different. Humerous sometimes. But I was drawn more towards his 'Jack the Ripper' posters. Miller was a child when the manhunt was on for Jack the Ripper. He recalls the posters, the news bulletins, the cars with loudspeakers pleaing for information, the fear, the excitement. His work is about what remains when it becomes old news. Left over posters, partly pasted over with new news, and how this changes the initial content. Massively interesting. That was last year.

This year. I took the opportunity on the way back down from the Northumberland jaunt. Bright sunshine this time. Not as dramatic. But I was still undoubtably impressed with what I experienced. Cornelia Parker. Have long loved her work. Use it in school a bit sometimes. Flattened brass instruments. Suspended in a circle, lit from the centre. Shadows. Moving as the instruments swayed. Beautiful. Aware of each breath. Stillness. Like being in a church a bit. I felt the need to tiptoe. To try and pretend I wasn't actually there, disturbing the silence. I did actually try to get inside the circle, but the gallery assistant got a bit huffy and said 'no'. There were other bits by her too. Small objects in frames and cases. I was a bit dismissive of these at first, they seemed indulgent, but then I read the titles and realised they were brilliant and that I had been a pompous idiot. Ear plugs made from the dust of the Whispering Gallery in St Pauls Cathedral. Embryos of objects still in thier deflated feotal forms, before they become something. Often destructive objects. A gun. A balloon for a political campaign...

Two floors down Tomas Saraceno's utterly breathtaking web. An installation in a white room. A black web. So difficult to comprehend quite how beautiful this was. Almost frightened of losing the image from my mind. Ghostly. Pure. Fragile. He had studied the intricacies of how spiders build their webs. In great detail. I left the gallery for a second time needing to talk about and use this experience in some way... not quite sure how yet...

Yorkshire Sculpture Park. Again. Again. Again and again...

I was in the very last group of students to train as teachers at Bretton Hall. It was in the grounds of the Yorkshire Sculpture Park and it is one of the very greatest shames that Bretton Hall no longer exists. I remember escaping out into the grounds to have a good old cry on many occasions. The stillness and presence of the sculpture used to calm my heart. Make things shrivel back into perspective. I think that is why I still use it as my escape today. There was a phase, earlier this year, when I went every week ( lots of bad times). Today I went. It was the first time in about 4 months. I like to show it to people. I want them to love it as much as me. Like sharing a secret. Saw the David Nash work for the first time. Not sure about it...It was interesting. But I think I have loved the previous two exhibitions too much ( Andy Goldsworthy, then Peter Randall Page). This was good, but for me, did not have the same impact. I will probably forget it easily. Move on to other things in my mind. The old work is still with me too strongly. I absolutley, completely and utterly loved Goldsworthy and Randall Page's work. Not ready to let go of that yet. I also recently discovered Rob Ryan here. In a little, tiny gallery. His breathtaking, spellbinding paper cuts. My walls, bookshelves and mind are fast becoming filled with his work. Now I would really, really like some of his tiles ( if only I had an art buying fairy...). I blame the YSP shop for that. It gets me everytime...

Today was special. I hope G loved it as much as I thought she would...?

Ran away to Northumberland

Bleak. Wild. Beautiful. Desolate. I ran away. Might stay here...

The road to Holy Island. Following the ebbing tide across. one and a half hours to reach the other side. 30 seconds straight on return journey. Here I feel ok being me. Similar to Stoneycreek. But wilder. Think I need the sea... Perfect light. Rain in the distance. A reminder. This light is why I work in glass. Don't ever want to replicate it. Just maybe capture its essense. Just a moment. A fragment.

Soundtrack: Belle and Sebastian...

Just opened the kiln

Destined for 'Pollyanna' in Hull (eventually!). Still lots of grinding, filing and polishing to do. Findings to be added. Packaging to be sorted...

Am busy...

Need to work really hard. Trying new stuff. Not sure how it will be recieved. Want to push myself beyond just glass and introduce other textures. Starting to realise that another quality of glass is that its transpancy. Looking beyond and through it. Think I want to start to exploit this. More. Layer more. Having a play inbetween 'production line' stuff. Also thinking about line. Sketchy lines...better keep going...

Detail from a kiln formed glass commision. Am liking the idea of working with simpler sections but layering with other media behind the glass. Have been working with salvaged fabric scraps and paint. Not quite ready to assemble anything yet. Still very much playing. Have a list of commisions to work through first which I have to give priority to. (Need mull this over in more detail later. The concept of producing comercially viable work versus satiating ones own creativity. Feel pulled in both directions at the moment. A battle).

Feeling happier. Going through old sketchbooks...

Detail from my ideas book. All of these drawings have been worked through into glass.

Really enjoy creating runny, inky drawings. I like the challenge of manipulating the glass in the kiln to replicate the beautiful runniness. I like it imperfect...

Feel more motivated. Looking at bits and bobs from the past. Will start playing with texture again tonight. I think...Just make a start at least. Got so much to do...