Probably the reason I get told I should be an art therapist

It's only half past ten yet I'm ready for a g&t...I've had a series of unfortunate events, and I'm very tired. Here's a drawing that explains today's path to happiness! It all started with coffee getting spilt in my car, leaving me with a wet floor, and no coffee, then getting a body of work given to me to complete over Easter, leading to wanting a gin and tonic, then a bath full of gin and tonic then sleeping happily... Utterly pointless and non serious but a great way of making your problems look and feel insignificant!!

Responses to movement

Francesca woodman often uses movement within her photography and Nan Goldin uses personal lives, children and lovers. I have responded to both artists using photographs I'd previously taken of people moving, and children acting naturally. The photographs were not staged and mostly the people in them were un aware they were being taken, the style responds to Woodman more so than Goldin in the way that they are black and white with a blue wash over them. 

My Gramp

My Gramp has been in hospital for a fair few weeks now, he's been the main reason for my project being based around memory, having resently been diagnosed with altsimers his way of conversing has now become the subject of my analisation, it boggles my mind, facinates me, yet I probably shouldn't find such pleasure in the subject. It's easy to let your emotions run when he looks straight through you after you've been sat in a chair opposite him for an hour chatting and laughing, then you realise he hasn't a clue who you are...Or as I've found when he does eventually remember exactly who you are and says your name solidly for half an hour to anybody that will listen 'this is Esme she is my granddaughter'. Getting old was something I'd thought about but never really considered, now I understand why people say they don't want to get old, there is no graceful way of dying as far as I'm aware, just the same as there is no way of going to the toilet gracefully, yet we all do it, even the most graceful people on the planet go to the toilet every day, they will also die... All pride must be lost when you can no longer drink your coffee from a mug, instead from a plastic tumbler, or you don't know if you'll make it to the loo in time, and if you do, it's only because you've asked someone to take you there, or being spoon fed by your granddaughter or son, or a nurse that two seconds ago was a stranger to you... One thing my gramp keeps saying is 'I'll get over it' this makes me laugh every time, mainly because if you know my Gramp you'll know he always has a bee in his bonnet so whatever it is, he won't be getting over it very soon! This project will hopefully help me to continue thinking positively about memory loss, and raw confusion, more importantly it will let me exploar memories of my gramp's, friends, and family, and cherish them through hopefully some stunning responses. 

I will be posting photographs from the hospital accompanied with a little bit of writing responding to how he is that day... 

My Nan's Funeral

This is a body of work responding to Tracey Emin, and my Nan's funeral a few years ago. I have blurred memories of the day, but I remember lots of unknown faces, heaps of flowers and lots of crying. I remember seeing my dad cry for the first time, as well as my Gramp... I wasn't sure (and don't think anyone is ever sure) what to do, but then it just naturally passes, you deal with it in a very laid back, no fuss fashion, because you have no other option I suppose? So I've done a small body of work in the style of Tracey Emin, in reaponse to my memories of my Nan's funeral. 

I mono printed and crocheted the flower, then rubbed it in the printing ink.

Francesca Woodman

Francesca Woodman was a young American photographer who sadly tok her own life before her career kick started. Born into a family of artists (mother Betty Woodman and father George Woodman) in a documentary called 'The Woodmans' Betty speaks about how 'all they did was art', this family lived for art, it was what they trained in, studied for, did for fun and how they earnt every penny they made. So it was no supprise when Francesca took her first film photograph when she was only fourteen. Francesca then went on to study photography, during this time she juniored on many famous shoots, getting her ready to move to New York where she believed it would be impossible to fail. After living in New York Woodman became depressed, and had two sucicide attempts before jumping out of a roof window and sadly ending her life. Nobody is really sure what hurt Woodman so badly that her life became unbearable, all we know is that the failure of her career kick starting made her life different to how she'd probably imagined, and her relationship with her beloved boyfreind broke down. Woodman's photography was exhibited by her parents after her death and that where her name went global, her prints scream generic issues that most photographers touch upon but in such an imaginative way. Her mind state is also clear through her photography, she often scribbled notes to various people on her photographs, mostly to her boyfreind, but sometimes just made up notes explaining her thought process or emotions. 

Francesca used various darkroom techniques to manipulate her photographs, she'd sometimes softly rub parts of them as they were in the developing solution. Woodman also had a passion for vintage clothing, she used it within her work most of the time, creating texture and a feminine feel to her work.

In my first year of college I looked at Woodman intensively, she became my hero as soon as I first laid eyes on one of her prints. I did lots of work responding to hers for my project 'fantastic forms'. 

After playing around with textiles, light, composition and style I started to work with shutter speed combined with movement which I'd done many times with a digital camera but this was my first time with a film camera.

The outcome was a real success and looking back on it now, one of my strongest photography outcomes of my first year. 

I've decided to use Woodman again for this project because of the way she represents issues in such an innocent way, I think it would be great to respond to people's fears or secrets in a similar way to how she responds to hers through her photography. 

Back to Emin

Terribly wrong- 1997

I have blogged about Tracey Emin before, but this time I'm using her intensely emotional works as inspiration to how I might respond to the answer I get from interviewing people about their memories. Emin has responded to many of her own life events, misscaraiges, sex, alcoholism, drug abuse, relationships and emotions. She uses mono prints and text combined, this may be viewed as an easy way to convey emotion, by simply spelling it out, however I think to be able to write down your own innermost personal thoughts is incredible admireable. I will be doing many written pieces within this project, mainly about my own responses to things I reveal from people, and how I feel about talking to particular people, and my own mind state day to day or week to week throughout this massively heavy project., that will end with an end of year show, exhibiting a group of nine art students final project outcomes.

May Dodge, My Nan- 1963-93

This installation is very similar to what I have in mind for my part of the exhibition in June, a collection of short films, large scale photography, textile pieces, and notes on mind states.

I'm back

After having the most hectic few months (which I will blog about later) I've launched my self directed final project, I will be delving deep into people's personal lives, living through their memories and searching for their deepest and possibly darkest life events, through the world of photography, using both traditional darkroom techniques and digital software. Today I have completely dedicated my time to playing around with some possessions of my own and other students, this is primarily for experimental and research purposes, responding to other artists and experimenting with colour, composition and my theme. Here are some of my outcomes... I have asked people to 'lay your life on my table'

These are my possessions, my jacket, shoes, purse, cards, watch, coffee cup, sketchbook, my everyday objects.

In a jumble, focusing on composition.

Alex's breakfast. She has a cold today. I'm focusing on colour, never normally would I dare to place red and yellow together but it's become quite a happy accident.

Cards. 

Are you due on?

Women all over the world will have experienced a boy who's pulled out a tampax from her bag thinking it was a sweet. Colours are deceiving.

Zara is my most liked shop at the moment. Focusing on composition again.

Mine and Rosie's jackets.

10:30am and two coffees have been consumed in the studio. 

Alex's collectables

 Alex's keys and sting ray good luck toy.

Brodie's bag. Focusing on colour and composition.

Essentials again, colour, composition and light.

Breakfast is usually consumed on a grubby drawing mat. Focusing on colour and texture.

Good job I'm so good at parking, not so good my boyfreind buys sweets for every journey.

I wonder how many times my Nan applied lipstick in this mirror? Focusing on colour and composition. 

Cirencester. 

The temptation to remove all of my clothes and lie naked on a long sheet of white paper when I asked myself to lay my life on the table was unbearable, our lives are made from possessions, as sad as that thought is, our bodies simple aren't enough to keep us living our lives... 

I will forever fake tan, I will also forever want to take nude photographs of whoever I can, whenever I can.