What is your earliest memory of ‘creativity’?
My earliest memories of creativity encapsulate the home as much as what was created in it - and I was lucky enough to grow up in two fantastically creative homes.
Memories of my childhood with my mother are permeated by her ability to create a home suffused with a richness of colour and filled with objects that held a purity of form and line. My childhood in this home was one filled with a creativity that comes from necessity as well as desire, which meant that so many things were handcrafted; clothes, linen, Christmas cards, decorations, toys.
Meanwhile amidst the muddled cluttered chaos of my stepmother’s home there were areas of perfect calm, meticulous categorisations of collections, from wooden spoons to painted blown eggs to preserved petals; entire rooms painted with countryside dioramas in minute detail; a kitchen tabletop painted in icing as a giant birthday card.
I feel very grateful to have grown up with two such strongly creative women; I believe that my creativity is born of their creativity.
What do you want your work to do to/for its viewers?
With ‘States of Belonging’ I wanted to create a sense of tranquillity and wonderment for the viewer. It was great to see people just stop, be still and relax within the space.
For me it’s important to create work that has followed a path of enquiry and articulates my conclusions but I don’t desire to be prescriptive in my presentation of these conclusions. I am happy for a viewer to read their own stories, feelings and thoughts into the work and for it to give them the opportunity to find a small space of calmness and time to not only wonder, but to also let their mind meander and imagine; a meditation of sorts.
How does your art change you?
Making art is a constant surprise to me, it can be a roller-coaster of a ride. I have to believe in the doubtful moments and know that they are an intrinsic part of the journey. I am learning to be open to accepting changes in the direction of the work if the materials or the space dictate it. Making art is (slowly!) teaching me to remember to let go; embrace the unexpected; accept that I can’t control everything and enjoy the places that it leads me.