As Selection Day for The Great Sheffield Art Show 2010
http://www.gsas.co.uk/ is fast approaching (and I start to panic about ever having enough work ready!), I began musing over the pieces of my art that I no longer own, that have been bought by anonymous admirers, or passed on to friends in exchange for kind words.
I first sold work when I lived in Hatfield, a village just outside Doncaster. I got involved in the running of an art show at the parish church. A small girl who lived locally was my biggest benefactor. Barbie-pink kitsch appealed to her young eye, and she begged her Dad to buy her two collages over consecutive years. She requested that I sign them, like a proper artist, her hoping they'd be worth something one day. Me too!
I've had some luck at Sheffield too. Although this time of a more mysterious nature. I love the idea that someone I've never met, who knows nothing about me, was interested enough to put their hand in their pocket and buy something so personal to me, that I laboured over, shifting elements by milimetres until I perceived the perfect composition. And that they don't know fully what the piece means, because they've never had chance to ask, but instead they make their own interpretations. I wonder how they display my work? Where does it hang? Is it still in one piece?!
Thus was the fate of these two collages. I love red white and blue. Not just because I'm patriotic. I own more blue dresses than anyone, seriously! More than Alice and Dorothy put together! And you can't go wrong with red shoes.
The dinky tray that this piece started out as was found in a charity shop in Chester, my second home.
And this American themed piece was inspired by the 'Liberty' frame I scavenged at a car boot sale.
When money is tight (and even when it's not) a hand made gift is the perfect sentiment for a dear friend. I've given many an artwork to mates and to family, perhaps opening myself up to potentially the harshest criticism! Thankfully everyone's been grateful so far...!
I gave this bottle to Alex aka Bentley, as he often likes to remind me that poison comes in little bottles (being that I am on the petite side of things)
To Katherine, my bestest mate since I was but 12, possibly my favouritest piece I ever made, my proudest, most Joseph Cornell moment. Yeah, she's been known to keep it in the bathroom, but that's chaotic Kat all over. And I know she appreciates it deep down ;-)
I try to create stories when I make my art. But after that I guess their fates are in their own hands. And maybe in a hundred years, when they've been handed down through generations, people will wonder about the girl who made them and what she was thinking. I only hope the glue holds out!
