Athens Archeological museum

Disjointed, but the mind makes connections. This image could be useful for me when it comes to finding a way to present the work as a whole. maybe i should think about making a torso of some kind. I want to make a porcelain ribcage, but when I have tried to I haven't liked the results. It's looked either too derivative or too strange. Just not quite right. Maybe porcelain isn't the right material and I should explore weaving it from paper rope or willow. But then, I am reluctant to start using a material that is unfamiliar to me at this point, because I want to make work that is actually good, actually skilled, refined. But I think also that playing it safe isn't wise, it won't satisfy or inspire me.

Donald Gladstone Rodney 'In the house of my father'

I'm so touched by this piece by Donald Gladstone Rodney. I had seen this piece a few times over the years, but for some reason at this moment it really hit me. it's interesting to me because this tiny fragile house is made from the artist's skin, which would usually put this photo in the category of 'abject' art, but that isn't where this belongs. It is tender and beautiful and shows the viewer his vulnerability, seems to show you how fragile and possibly tenuous he felt in his childhood or maybe just his life generally. The skin used to make the house was removed in an operation needed because of his sickle cell anaemia, which he died from in 1988 at just 37 years old. I can feel his pain in the image- the soft opening of his hand to reveal this tiny treasure, built of the fabric of that same hand. There seems to be this kind of quiet grief to the image, as if the brokenness of the house is a commentary on his childhood, on the collapsible nature of his own home, not in accusation but in observation of a lack of stability in his life. It is so understated but hugely emotive. I have also been thinking about skin recently, about how I can describe and use the skin in my work, softly, gently, to tie the work together or just to form a membrane between the organs and the outside world.

What works, what doesn't

This re-imagining of a stomach, I'm not sure about. Maybe a soft dark glaze would change my mind, but I don't feel particularly strongly either way about the piece. I wouldn't put it in my show. But it's also worth remembering that not every piece has to be a winner. I think that I just wanted to explore the potential of carving into clay a little more.

This seed pod like shape was a thought about a vulva, but I think that the imagery is a little too literal. The immediacy of the concept isn't really how I like to work. I want there to be more ambiguity and gentleness to the work. I like the fact that it is tactile and weighty though.

I am really happy with this heart. I really like the idea of working deeper into the concept of the orifice. The value of the orifice in the work is also the fact that there is the potential for expansion from the singularity of the sculpture into something larger- I imagine maybe some copper pipes coming out, like veins and ventricles. I don't like the colour though- I would like to try glazing with a soft iron oxide or maybe a dark brown.

Another kind of heart, this one faceted, to explore a different kind of tactility with the objects. I want to move away from the possibility of all of the sculptures looking the same. I want the work to have similar qualities to the organs in an actual body, in the way that each organ has different properties.

I'm not happy with this piece. There is something about the form that I find ungainly, and the overglazing gives it a childlike quality. It looks too much like a faux animal, and the contrast of the crank clay and the glaze is unattractive to me. I don't like the shiny quality of the glaze. The black is also too harsh.

I really like this series of tiny organs, and I'd like to work with smaller objects more. I was thinking of the smaller, neglected organs like the thyroid, the larynx, the eardrum ect. I liked working these small objects as if they might be tiny ritualistic instruments. I am undecided about the soft grey mottled glaze, I can't work out whether it works or not.

This is a tragic failure in using wax resist and black glaze. The object itself is satisfying, inspired by a liver or pancreas, or another small organ. I will re glaze it and hopefully fix it

Dorothy Cross

I just discovered Dorothy Cross, and feel really inspired by her work. looking at her work has got me thinking about embodiment and disembodiment. She explores fragmentation of the body in a way that seems to skip over the abject and into reverence, but in a very subtle and quiet way that takes inspiration from the opulence of reliquaries and shrines in her use of materials, but avoids directly referencing it. 

I started to wonder - which is it that truly interests me in my work, and what am I questioning? Is my work about the sensation of being truly embodied, sensory exploration and the experience of being a breathing, pulsing human? Or maybe it is a question of anonymity, of the base quality of the human organ, and the intriguing, mysterious banality of humanity.

As I write these things, neither reduction of my work really feels right, because those descriptions seem to be more about product than process, and for me the importance is more in the making, and the roots of the process. The roots of the process lie in ritual, anthropology, tradition, history, the similarities between plant and human life. 

     Silver Dishes, 2015

                                Rugby Ball, 2005

   
    Hand and Foot, 2017

FIRED

This is one of the first things in the organ series that I made- a stomach ache in crank.

I do like the glaze, but it would be so much better if the glaze was done with more care. My problem in this project is that i don't really understand glaze yet, and it can completely make or break a piece. I want the pieces to look thoughtful and careful, because that's what they are. I want them to look touchable, soft for the most part, and like they were made with passion and sensitivity. Glazing something carelessly does not convey those intentions.

This penis was a part of a larger sculpture that fit together in pieces, but I wasn't happy with the other piece, so now the penis stands alone as an individual sculpture, which I actually really like. It's soft and quiet. Seeing the finished penis made me want to work with the subject of genitals more, the subject of fertility and the ambiguity between the animal and plant world that I had intended to be a strong part of the work from the beginning. Seeing the finished piece also got me thinking about small instruments, tribal, traditional, personal, hand made. I thought about the soft humour of making a small clay wind instrument that resembles a penis- almost a kiss between the clay lips and the lips of the person playing it, and how to play a wind instrument forces you to take a deep breath, bringing the viewer even further into the work, relating to it in a multi sensory way.

Mobilizing Drawings

For many years I have been blind drawing, almost ritualistically as a part of my daily art practice, and always feeling like the drawings needed to be extended beyond their short lifespan of process, and then being kept quietly in sketchbooks that rarely got opened.

Over the summer I made many coil built pots, form inspired by ancient greek and egyptian pottery, intending to make pottery that appeared like an artefact, that could perhaps be made by any hands in any era. Intuitively, I felt compelled to scribe onto the surface of the pots, carving scenes and portraits that I had blind drawn long ago. I didn't immediately see the connection between these scenes and the greek and egyptian narrative bearing pots that I had been inspired by. I also have a fondness for Grayson Perry's work. I feel torn about whether to continue this as a part of my degree practice. On the one hand, the drawings have been such a constant in my work that mobilizing them on pots makes sense as a part of the work, making place and placement tangible, but on the other hand the work could be seen as derivative and slightly too literal. The process of making interests me, in some ways more than the actual finished product, although I do like the finished work. The process itself is like a deep meditation, fragmented into many parts- Draw, many times over, coil the pot, dry, carve scene into pot, fire, glaze, fire. I like the idea of a long process in making something. It increases the preciousness for me. 

Cartilage, Glass, Wax

I have connected with an artist working with casting glass, and plan to potentially work with her to make some cast objects. I want to make cartilage; thick and heavy glass pieces, translucent, soft forms but maybe with a rough texture. I made some maquettes from the wax. They are just preliminary experiments.