Mx.D.P

I have spent f*cking hours on this, and I bloody hate it… I thought I could ignore aesthetic sensibilities and know that the conceptual underpinning was sound… well I can’t!!! It looks sh*t, and I hate it!

Why?

An art practice is like a pianist practising their scales, right? Nope, not really, as you might start playing scales and end up playing a dumpster fire… that’s a Dadaesque reference…

Cathartic then? Errr, there are times when the process becomes a source of frustration and self-doubt. My recent exploration of reusing charity shop art has turned into struggles with emotions and the creative process.

As I wrestle with this stupid drawing, instead of conceptual intention, embracing the principles of reduce, reuse, recycle, and refuse, the piece continues into hours of work layering acrylic surface prep, gel printing meditation, and then drawing with every tool in my box (pencil, pen, charcoal and oil pastel) A dystopian vision of my home village 2123 becomes something else….

A wild beast that I despised as each layer irritated me more than the last…. it was p*ssing me off!

My intention was to enter whatever I produced into the Kyffin Williams prize, my creative brain was shouting f*ck the patriarchy. This is about global climate change and a rejection of creating endless stuff. Whereas my control brain saw it as some deluded opportunity to pay homage to my home village and its amazing art collective. Borth will eventually be lost to the sea due to global warming. As an artist residing in an arts village, I felt a responsibility to do justice to the legacy of my community. A conflict of intention, then? No, worse still, not only couldn’t I escape my own expectations, I was incapable of breaking free from my internal preoccupations.

I am past the struggle for perfection; I wanted a resolution or indication of a new position. I resorted to glazing, hoping to trap the drawing in an acrylic hell.

Despite my efforts to kiss the frog, this recycled calendar page never turned into a handsome Prince.

Only frustration. More questions.

Self-Reflection in the midst of my frustration, gave me a realisation that my upcoming trip to London, the CCI workshop, Yayoi Kusama’s Infinity Mirror Rooms, Philip Guston, the Lightroom and a quick visit to CSM was both exciting and anxiety-inducing I know it’s going to hurt!

I am bricking it for the train journey, will I cope? What shape will I be in? What will be the physical difficulties I face negotiating London? Will I kill somebody riding my new disability scooter? Will I be able to breathe in the London air? Will my heart pack in?

In the morning, I don’t make the loo anymore… a trail of pee follows me… I need p*ss pants… or a new body would be nice…

So, rather like tackling any new artwork, bravery and fearlessness were essential qualities to navigate this journey.

Perhaps it was time to start afresh on a different piece of paper. The frustrations and setbacks I encountered were part of any artistic journey, and sometimes you just have to let go and see what happens…