Artist statement

3/4 of a year ago, life was very different.

Coming to the end of a catastrophic year, I was relieved it was nearly over. It was December 2022 and soon I’d be able to talk about everything that happened “last year” ― in the past, and put some distance between me and the turmoil. I’m not sure I felt particularly ‘good’, but I felt hopeful. I lost all sense of fear and lived more in the moment but, as it turned out, that was a temporary reaction.

2023 hasn’t gone the way I expected either. You learn from experience certain life events will change you, but I somehow didn’t anticipate the emotional upheaval. Like a kitten struggling out of a bag at the side of the canal, you get out to find it’s sunny and warm, and there’s food and shelter nearby, because, despite it all, life keeps rotating round. Good follows bad follows good follows bad…

It’s exhausting, yet somehow affirming and reassuring that life just is this way.
And, more importantly, that’s okay.

Life’s relentless seesaw echos the creative process

As months passed, I occasionally felt I’d lost my way with this immersive exhibition idea. Then I spoke with a creative technologist and connected with an immersive storyteller, and I recognise: Nothing’s changed.

• I know what I’m building.
• I know why, and who for.

I just don’t know exactly how I’m going to do it yet…

There’s a heap of exciting stuff happening in the immersive space. Exploring all of that, it took some time to figure out what my kind of immersive might look like and I’m only just starting to find my people.

(Plus it’s hard to form a solid creative process when your head’s a frequent sh#tshow 😊)

Yet here I am, finding myself ready to write an artist statement and cement my idea, for a project that’s been my constant through all these crazy times.

Now, that? That does feel good.

Power in my pocket

When my youngest daughter was seriously ill, I was given a crystal by an incredibly kind and gifted friend that I carried with me everywhere.

Sleeping in my clothes, it nestled in my pocket.

Going back and forth from the hospital, it stayed by my side.

Lifeless yet curious at the same time, this hard, heavy rock, glimmering with hope, granted me strength, both physically in my hand and in my mind.

Now my artist statement is written, it feels much the same ― although few people will see it just yet, I know it’s there and it gives me strength and belief in whatever comes next.

There’s not all that much to it:

• 83 words
• 2 paragraphs
• 1 bolded section
• One use of my name
• 1 emoji and 1 emoticon
• Focus on soul and solitude
• The words “wrestle” & “force”

But to me, it’s a milestone and a place I needed to reach 🙌

Main image created using Midjourney