WRITING

I write because it makes me happy. It really does. I have sketchbooks and journals full of writing alongside those with visual references and practice in. I should, perhaps, embrace it more, as was highlighted today by the exhibition at GN. I like to plan, write, take notes; it’s all part of my practice. As a child I had books and diaries full of poems and short stories. I stopped writing when a secondary school teacher was unenthusiastic about it. In hind sight she was busy, it was exam time, she was head of department in a school that was over populated and under staffed, I was doing fine so to her the dismissal wasn’t an issue, she just didn’t have time, to me it was devastating, I was sensitive.

So I’m writing so profusely because I’m enjoying it. The claim of that as my practice feels defiant, empowering and exciting. Now I want to improve, work on my grammar and phrasing, build my vocabulary.

Regarding practice; it has shifted this past academic year, from self-centered and confessional to wider and informed. It’s moving again, swaying in and out of areas. It feels like the whole of my education is informing my practice all at once, resurgence. Maybe that should be investigated, how does it fit in with my interest in routine, pattern and daily life? Is there room for art that explored the elitism of academia, that questions the social politics of public and private schools, the accessibility to notable faculty members, networks and audiences that come with degrees from certain establishments?

Books I have previously made. The art books of tracing paper pages stimulate me the most.Intrigued by how you can read layers together, the story unfolds at once and differently in a different timeline.

not for citation or circulation