14 February 2021
In an attempt to feel more comfortable with sharing my process—which is something I have always felt strange and self-conscious about—I've decided to post something short here every weekend. I'm hoping for it to develop into a log which I can reflect back on when I want to remember how I was feeling and what I was thinking about when trying to do this PhD. It might become a messy place, which I kind of like having here on the internet (which usually feels very clean and messy at the same time, not sure why).
I've always kept journals, but my relationship with 'keeping track' of things is not particularly disciplined. I always turn to a physical journal (often in moments of crisis or when feeling particularly lonely-in-art). I know most artists keep journals (although some don't, which I'm always very curious about), but I do feel particularly attached to the idea of art as a secretive practice as much as it is about communicating with the world 'out there'. Writing or drawing in a journal feels like talking to an answering machine. There seems to be something very reassuring about the delayed response - no pressure to respond.
The past few weeks I've been thinking about what it means to 'hold' a book in your hands as you read it, and then to carry it around in your head in the weeks following, allowing it to live its life alongside you as you go about your day. This might be the subject for a painting or series of paintings down the line, but really it could just be something that's sitting there comfortably on the margins of a painting practice.
Also, Happy Valentine’s Day.