A room whose floor is covered with hundreds of evenly spaced copies of the same product in different states of use. The same in the next room with another product. And so on and so on throughout the gallery.
Descriptions of artworks to create in your imagination. Some could become real. Some never should. Some are ultimately mindfulness exercises. However you see them, the experience for each viewer is unique. Resource List. Manifesto.
Monday, 31 August 2020
Monday, 24 August 2020
#013: Vibrant escapism
In the carnival of your mind the sun shines brightly, every footstep treads lightly.
Remember this as you close your eyes and think of the most colourful place you have been.
A garden, perhaps, with a thousand flowers. A multitude of painted festival faces and vivid costumes. The warmth of the yellow seaside sun, the cool of the clear blue sea, the kiss of the soft sand on your bare feet.
Let the vibrant escapism fill you and warm you as would the embrace of the person you would most like to be in the arms of right now. Let it fill you up until you can feel those arms as if they were real; feel the sun, sea or sand as if it were right there, hear the sounds of the procession as if it filled the air or smell the fragrance of flowers as if under your nose.
And stay there.
Remain.
Until you are ready to return, knowing and accepting that it was not real, no matter how real you were able to make it feel.
Monday, 17 August 2020
#012: Potential energy (finite)
A pen in a glass case.
Full of infinite potential.
But only so much.
(And none while here).
Monday, 10 August 2020
#011: High Tea (Formal to the end)
Oil on canvas.
A couple take high tea at the top of a high cliff being crashed into and eaten away by enormous waves.
Monday, 3 August 2020
#010: "Cut Off", or The Modern Hermit's Dream
Monday, 27 July 2020
#009: Pass it on
Stand at one end and position someone who was not there, or does not remember, at the other.
Recount your memories of the pandemic.
Monday, 20 July 2020
#008: Artist's Shit
It is padlocked shut and bears a sign reading, "Do Not Open."