My practice has taken a bit of a battering in recent months. The plan to relocate to the countryside and focus solely on my work seems to not be panning out as planned thus far. I guess running an art gallery is a little more consuming than I had imagined, and I do come to rely on getting lost in my work when it works. Hard to do with all that goes on here. Anyhow, I was initially grateful, then annoyed, then grateful to be asked to be part of the Home exhibition that just finished in Hastings, in curators Scott Robertson’s flat. I happily got to spend an hour or so checking out the show a few weeks back when on a mega journey to spend quality time with my girlfriend’s parents (and my girlfriend) and was pleasantly surprised by my work that had been created from a book supplied to me by Scott some months previously and finally supplied back at least 48 hours before the exhibition opened, posted minutes after making it. Just like the good old days.
Anyhow, to the here and now I have plans for work I want to make. Some for shows, some not for shows. I have plans for shows I want to do, and proposals I need to write. I have photos a plenty to digest and process. Notes and research to join the dots with. Places to go, people to see. I just can’t hold it all in my head nor can I seem to find the time to apply to the tasks in hand. Come back quiet anonymous life I lead in the city where I can go all day without anyone bothering me if I need to. Here’s to hoping. Here’s one I like a lot from Home.