5 weeks into college and it’s ALOT! So much to navigate around to get to some sort of baseline. Finding accommodation for a nightly rate rather than weekly due to reduced hours in the college, working from home and working in the college = two head spaces, trying to actually do work at home, keeping up with academic writing for my thesis, making/doing/researching for studio work, professional art identity module and submitting CV, presentations, artist statement for that…oh and try not to avoid the virus causing a pandemic around the world.
I guess I thought returning to college would make Covid-19 fall away into background noise but that is certainly not the case. Every decision has been impacted by it. That in turn affects my thinking, which then impacts in my making, which then messes with my overall well being.
The clarity I had last year, about why I was making, my concept, is foggy and hazing since the beginning of college. It’s around memory, I’m trying to investigate the connection between the materials to the idea. Materials like peat, hay, bone, materials sourced from the farm and the land around me. No longer looking at a specific memory and beginning to think that might be a problem. No clear line of thought from a memory, like I had last year. Perhaps it too general, too broad for me to grasp under one concept. I don’t know but I do know that I’m finding it hard to think clearly about it all. That uncertainty is only amplified by all the uncertainty surrounding Covid-19, will the college remain open, can I still travel to college and general anxiety about the whole situation.
I’m acutely aware that I’m privileged. Others have very vulnerable people to take care of while also trying to attend college. Some are hundreds of miles from college and just don’t get to Cork at all. A couple more are trying to keep their jobs during all this. All worries outside of the normal college stuff as well. There have been days where it has felt like a lot, more tears the past few weeks maybe than all of the past year. We’ll keep on keeping on and hope that hope and healing will come through the making.
Mid-August. Two weeks left in work. Two weeks until college. Two weeks until 4th year starts. Two weeks of panic.
Considering what I wrote in my previous post…let’s just say things didn’t go to plan. I haven’t worked on this site or done any actual work for college. I have done a lot a thinking but need to get to making/doing now. Teaching has been a very big, but monetarily necessary, distraction from college work. The shift from face-2-face teaching to online teaching has been massive for me and required a lot more prep than I had ever thought possible. Now, at the start of the second last week of summer school, I’m more confident in my prep and more experienced about it all. Just as it’s about to end.
I did continue with my walks and taking photos of the farm or anything that caught my eye. I’m always mindful that what happens on the farm is part of a cycle that has repeated itself for decades, even centuries. My father working the farm, turning hay, moving cattle and everything else that goes into the life of a working farm is something that has been done by my past relatives. I have walked the exact same steps as these people, doing the same thing at this time of the year as they would’ve done. Below are images including a close-up of a gate which triggered the thinking behind my academic writing. How many times has this gate been handled in the same spot by all my past relatives? I find it fascinating that the past is still tangible through such objects. American art historian, writer and curator Glenn Adamson wrote ‘a single thing may carry hundreds of stories about the people who made it or who have lived it’.1
Ashtown – the gate imprinted with the mark of Anglo-Irish landowner Lord Ashtown who’s hunting lodge was bombed and eventually destroyed by the IRA during the War of Independence.
I realise how lucky I’ve been to spend time at home over the Summer. Strolling through the woods, down by the river, wading through the hay fields feels so idyllic. ‘The feel of a place is registered in one’s muscles and bones’.2 My memories are made up of all these places, my identity is of this place.
So now my mind is turning towards college. The thesis. The making. The ideas (or lack thereof). Do I stay working within the concept of memory for 4th year? Change to something completely different? Do I really want to do that in my final year? These questions apply to both my studio work and academic research. In truth, it’s something I need give the time too. However, right now my head is still focusing on teaching too much. But I will get there…a little faith.
Adamson, Glenn, Fewer, Better, Things; The Hidden Wisdom of Objects, New York: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2018, 8
Tuan, Yi-Fu, Space and Place: The Perspective of Experience, Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1977, 7
It’s almost the end of June and although I’m officially on summer holidays, it doesn’t feel like it. Partially due to the fuzzy line created by Covid-19 restrictions, where does home begin and work end. My head is swimming with thesis/studio/work stuff. Moving into a physical space to deal with college work, like a library or studio space, is important to focus the mind I’ve discovered. However, for now the spare bedroom will have to do. Since the lockdown I have turned it into my studio work space. Can I call myself a qualified carpenter now that I’ve put down laminate flooring? Or painter-decorator since I painted the room?
Since submitting my research paper on May 1st I have taken it very easy. Almost too easy as now I realise it’s only 8 weeks before I return to college for 4th year and I want/need to do some research over the those weeks. Alongside that I need to earn some money for next year so I’m back doing English language teaching for the summer. I really enjoy it, it’s very different to what I do during the college year and it gives me a fuzzy feeling when I see students improve their language skills. Only snag is the time I take when prepping my classes and how I allow planning classes to consume my thinking. This year I’m trying to be more organised and give equal focus to college and teaching work. If I don’t, there might be little college research to show at the end of summer.
I feel like the whole situation with Covid-19 has forced us into a premature exit from the college, a soft kick out the door while still being in it. It’s giving me a sense of the challenge that faces me when I am finished at Crawford. Out in the big bad world and going it alone. Although staying connected with the other students in the class has been great. A back up, support group of sorts. We share each others concerns and anxieties on a group chat which gives me that reassurance I’m not really alone. I think that support will be very important over the next couple of months, especially for bouncing ideas off each other, but also for bringing each other back from the brink!
So today was the first time in awhile that I wrote a to-do list, my old reliable organisational tool. Included in it was to keep updating this blog every 2 weeks. I also want to add more images to the site. The pandemic has moved every industry online and art is no different. Again, it’s given me a gentle kick to start working on a site about my work, something I was thinking I’d do next year. Global pandemic teaching all of us lessons.
When I arrived in Cardiff in January, I had in my mind a rough idea what I wanted to focus on for my research paper. This was as a result of my work in my studio practice dealing with the subject of memory. In the months since the first group meeting for constellation, there have been particular moments that stand out in my mind as significant and helpful to the process, mostly involving my tutor Martyn and his feedback, but also, there have been other, less constructive (more tear inducing) moments.
In our first group meeting, I rambled on about memory, writers I had read, and even had a couple of pages typed about memory. Feedback from my tutor, Martyn, was encouraging, but I knew I was all over the place and needed something to anchor my thinking. A simple question from him ‘where did your interest in this come from?’ led me to explain to the group about a moment when I was standing in our farm yard opening a gate last summer. When Martyn suggested that I should write about that, I thought it not worthy of mentioning in my proposal. However, I now understand how vital it is to have a personal connection to the topic one intends to read and write about. Having read a number of books during this research process, I realise that many writers draw from their own personal experience and musings. Also, as a reader it draws you in, making a piece of philosophical writing grounded in reality.
Even though I bounce out of the meeting room that day with a clear idea of what I needed to do, it didn’t take long for the uncertainty and overwhelming feeling of being lost to settle in again. Nonetheless, I wrote, about my background, my personal memory moment at the gate, I put it all in, how I felt, what I was thinking about and what questions I was asking myself: how do we sense the past while being in the present and how we experience memory, what role material and matter play in it all and how my identity is linked through these memories to home that in turn gives me a sense of belonging.
My next ‘Ah-ha’ moment came at the following meeting where I read a section of this to Martyn and the group. As Martyn put it ‘each question is a PhD in itself’. Again, Martyn rescued my head from exploding. Why not turn the questions into statements he suggested. I rewrote the whole question section when I left that meeting and there it was in black and white; my critical position from which I could read and research into. The fog of bewilderment was slowly lifting to show a clear, crisp line of thinking.
More crucially, Martyn also created a frame for my research in a diagram he drew on a scrap of paper. It showed I could, firstly, explore memory from an autobiographical standpoint, secondly, look at matter through the object of the gate and, lastly, the farmyard would focus my examination of place. His diagram was ‘the’ eureka moment in this whole process. And a valuable lesson for me to stand back and visual what I want to write about. By having a visual representation it’s much easier to comprehend and the whole process doesn’t feel so overwhelming. As a result, an outline for my paper was formed into three areas. I could then assign particular books to each area on memory, material and place for my literature review. At the end, it was Martyn’s final feedback which helped conclude the final section of my paper and ultimately where the research should go next.
Other moments encouraged me along the way including the discovery that Aristotle, of all people, also pondered the idea of the past being in the present. I thought to myself well maybe my wondering about it all wasn’t so frivolous but was, in fact, a line of serious philosophical enquiry. Similarly, a sentence I read in Place and Experience by Jeff Malpas gave me reassurance that I was also on the right track. It was heartening to read his statements on memory and place being essential in our construct of identity. Not just to validate my position on the subject, but also personally, since this all comes from a deeply rooted question about self identity and a sense of belonging.
Just as I was getting into the swing of it, the corona virus decided to interrupt life as we know it. It was mid March when I left Cardiff and 4 weeks passed before I even looked at my work again. For the most part, negative moments and obstacles over the past few months are related to the corona virus fallout: the disruption to the flow of research, helping at home on the farm during calving time, sick calves, an old slow computer, poor Wi-Fi connection, interruptions from family when trying to focus, printer running out of ink, no library access and overall general anxiety about what the future holds. It was mentally exhausting and, inevitably, led to tears at certain moments.
Obviously, I had problems putting it together into some cohesive piece of writing. For me, the concepts I have stumbled into are elusive and tricky to write about. There was the descent of the fog every few days. It would come from nowhere, and only fade when I read over my notes, and refer to the diagram for direction. Although Martyn had online tutorials, I missed that allotted time to sit and talk about the work; I always came away with clarity. It goes to show the value of discussion and debate with others when trying to do academic research.
If I look at the brief set out for the research proposal paper, I think I have fulfilled most of the requirements, to what level remains to be seen. I think I have shown good research skills and have been able to get my head around the theorist’s writings. My critical analysis skills will improve as I progress into thesis territory. I also hope I will get more clarity in my mind about how these abstract notions can be applied to the act of making and creating. For now, I’m trusting the process, allowing ideas to come to me rather than me seeking them out and hoping this will help as I work towards my thesis.
I realise I haven’t entered a post here as part of the Constellation module. I also think this post may not have an word in it that is actually about what I’m researching. There’s a couple of reasons for that I think. Firstly, I had been focusing on Field and Subject modules during January and February. Secondly, when I really started putting my time into academic research the coronavirus decided to make an appearance. It completely threw me off my college work in Cardiff. My primary concern was my family in Ireland, hoping they were safe and getting home to them, And lastly, between mid-March and now, the end of April, my energy has been put into helping at home on the family farm, tending to sick calves, and figuring out how to live under this new ‘normal’.
Having said all that, I also know that many of my previous posts catergorised under Field or Subject directly link to my academic research areas of matter, memory, place and identity. This is because my studio work and academic research feed off each other. It’s hard to explain the connections and links that pop up while I’m reading or making. I could be working on a piece of clay, trying to sculpt it and think of a piece I was reading the day before that connects to the exact action or movement I’m making. Alternatively, I could be reading writings of a philosopher or theorist, something that to me has great imagery, and need to stop and sketch an idea that I want to make in studio. It’s intuitive, so I’ve never stopped working on my academic research, I’m always doing it, even when I’m making.
That’s not good enough though. Reading and thinking about topics of interest is great and all, and working in studio and ruminating on theories can give me Eureka moments, but presenting an object I made is not the equivalent of a 5,000 word paper. However much I wish it was. It must get written.
I had started before I left Cardiff, written maybe 1,500 words and had a rough outline in place for the paper. At that stage too, I believed I had read a decent amount of material. Like I said, I had been reading as part of studio work too, so I was happy-ish about where I was at the beginning of March.
But then COVID 19 showed up! My concentration levels went to the floor. Having generalised anxiety disorder during a time when the world itself seems to be going to pot isn’t a great situation to be in. Even worse is being away from home and worrying about family. I was very happy the day I got the email from CIT directing Erasmus students to make arrangements to get back to Ireland. I was home by the tea time the next day.
For 4 weeks, I didn’t look at any writings I had done. I didn’t open my notebook once. I managed to get organised for my Subject assessment for the first week in April; putting together a PowerPoint presentation and photographs of my work. It was only around Easter that I realised time was against me. I was still aiming for the original deadline of May 1st. Partially because I knew my thesis tutorials from Crawford would be starting then. I wanted to have my research paper finished before even talking about starting the thesis.
I started back, looking over what I had written before I left Cardiff in March. It was like reading something foreign. I struggled to get back into the headspace in which I had written it. The added difficulty was not having books I relied upon in Cardiff. Some I found online. Great, but scrolling up and down a screen does not good research technique make. There were a couple of days of tears…..mainly due to technology problems. I don’t own a laptop, so I was using an old one belonging to brother. One day it took 2 mins to type a letter, or at least for it to appear on screen, another 2 minutes to delete it because it was the wrong letter I typed. Then another 5 minutes for the correct letter to show up. I walked away in tears from pure frustration. I now borrow my brother’s more up-to-date work laptop. It’s a godsend and so is he. But he’s my brother so I won’t say that to him.
So where am I now? I’m stuck. Struggling to see where I want to bring my research in the future for my thesis. I have written the overview/intro and the literature review and submitted a draft for my tutor to look over. I’ve stepped away from writing for a couple of days, vital time away so I can go back with a fresh mind to it all. All the while, my Crawford tutor is planning our tutorials for the coming days, and I need to have some idea of where I want to go with it all. I have a phrase I go to when stressed out which seems apt for the COVID 19 pandemic…..’this too shall pass’, however for my 5,000 word paper it’s more like ‘it will get done’. It better. It has to.
My Erasmus adventure was bookended by two major world events; Brexit and the coronavirus pandemic. No biggy eh? One impacted on my preparation for going to Cardiff, the other abruptly ended the whole experience. Yet, the time in between was full of creativity, learning and exclamations of ‘that’s deadly!’ from me. From my first walkabout with Pip to my last workshop, I was amazed with all Cardiff Met offered its students.
Once I got in the door, I used the opportunity to take part in open workshops that were teaching skills I knew I couldn’t access in Crawford: craft wire bracelet, two-part mould making, slip casting, plaster lathe, augmented reality and digital stitch. When I asked, I was also given the chance to go to other workshops such as the level 4 throwing on the wheel induction and a bespoke laser cutting induction in printmaking. Huw demonstrated techniques I would never have considered for my work such as tube bending and laminating. All these processes have seeped into my knowledge bank, some will be more useful than others but I have learned from all of them.
The Field module, Printed Matter with Sean Edwards, allowed me to develop my concepts on memory in the form of an artist’s book. Having previously created a film about memory, this project challenged me to return to making a tactile artefact. It also afforded me the opportunity to learn and use new skills such as bookbinding and laser cutting in my book. The module as a whole helped me to adapt known and new skills in order to create a piece based on my subject research. It reiterated for me the impact that making, in any form or material, has on the thinking and creative process.
Along with my tutorials with Pip and Huw, the fodder for my thinking came in the form of the Constellation module and tutorials with Dr. Martyn Woodward. It expanded my knowledge of thinkers and writers on the subject of memory, identity and place. Inevitably, all the reading I did for my research proposal paper fed into my studio work.
The focus on sustainability at Cardiff Met has also influenced my making. I give much more consideration now to what materials I use and where I am sourcing them. Admittedly, it was not something I gave much thought to prior to the Erasmus trip. It will be something I take into account in my work in the future.
One profound take away from my time at Cardiff Met is the fact that my shifting from one material to another, something I had thought of as bad practice, is in itself a method of working. I tend to use any material, whether its clay, paper, wire, fabric, glass, anything! I had felt this was a fault, something I needed to change about my practice, but now I know it is how I work through my ideas; using the most appropriate material for the idea I’m working on for any given project. This clarity is a gift that allows me to work more freely and without that inner judgement.
The time spent in Cardiff gave me the opportunity to learn new skills and use known techniques. I feel I didn’t create a new body of work, but I had the space to consider new ideas and theories which changed my approach to my work. Ultimately, my Erasmus experience brought me towards the point where I could finally see myself as a maker and an artist. It gave me confidence that the knowledge and skills I have gained to date are enough to start taking tentative steps in the professional art world.
Nearing the end of the module and still thinking about my place within the applied art sphere world. Where do I see myself and my work? Some things have become very clear to me through my research. There are a number of actions I must take to set myself up post-college.
I need to create a website as a online portfolio in order for galleries and prospective clients to see my work. I had inquired with the CIT entrepreneur office about supports available to undergraduates prior to the virus outbreak. Although, I am considering creating one myself in the coming months using online webinars.
I need to broaden my experience of working in various environments and alongside different artists and makers, similar to being at Cardiff Met. Residences are vital in this regard. Depending on circumstances at home, especially regarding the health of my parents, I’d like to continue my education through a Masters program.
I want my work to be seen in a gallery context, ideally getting representation from a gallery which would expose my work more widely.
Having spoken to a number of artists, I understand commissions from private and business clients are important and therefore I must be willing to adapt my work to their requests.
From a more practical standpoint, I will apply to my local county council for art funding as they have grants available to artists living in Co. Waterford. Creating relationships with the local arts officer, Conor Nolan, and the Local Enterprise Office will be vital to starting-up my studio.
Speaking of a studio, I must do costings for the refurbishment of one of the farm outhouses. One in particular, situated across the yard from my house, would be ideal. It is a large space, big enough for a kiln. It needs electricity wired to it, lighting, two doors to be replaced with windows and a fresh coat of paint. A second hand stove could be installed for heating. Any funding received would go towards this.
I want to keep learning about how the industry works. This might mean working for other artists in their studio or learning from my own practice. I’m not naive to think I’ll leave college and have people buying my work or a gallery wanting to represent me, but I’m setting goals for the future through realistic glasses.
I wanted to write about some of the sources I use when developing and thinking about my work. As I’m looking at the theme of memory, identity and landscape in both studio work and academic research, there are lots of points of interest for me. I have looked at other artists from all disciplines working with all types of materials such as:
Ann Hamilton for her use of various found materials within site-specific installations
Richard Long for his use of raw clay and mud in his work from land art to artist’s books
Alexandra Engelfriet for her corporeal manipulation of mud in some of her work
Phoebe Cummings for her use of raw, unfired clay to create her temporary installation works
Elizabeth Di Donna for her performative pieces using unfired clay and slips
Marina Abramovic for how she dealt with trauma memories from childhood in her earlier performative pieces
Artists
Pip pointed me in the direction of two exhibitions of interest,Fragile? which was held at the National Museum Cardiff in 2015 and The Sensorial Object, also from 2015, which was staged at Craft in the Bay in Cardiff. Fragile? focused on ‘the beauty and diversity of contemporary ceramic practice’. It highlighted the unconventional ways artists use clay. It feels good to see such unusual ways of working with this material being lauded, almost like an affirmation that I’m doing the right thing. This exhibition included the British artist Phoebe Cummings.
Cummings uses raw, unfired clay in her sculptural art pieces. This obviously means they are temporary works which only remain as a photograph, or memory. One piece, Beneath 2007, was installed under the water inside a boathouse. As the water was still, the clay didn’t dissolve very quickly. I came across this artist after I started working with clay and water. So interesting to see another artist work with the same materials but in a different way.
Phoebe Cummings, Beneath, 2007
In The Sensorial Object exhibition posed questions like ‘ How do we sensate the world?’ and ‘Is it possible to capture or extend those moments of sensation long enough for us to perceive them?’ These questions are in line with my query about how we feel memory, how we handle memory and how can we make memory physical. Again, it’s a great source to see how artists deal with these questions through different materials.
Emma Rawson is one of the artists I was drawn to because she deals with the passing of time, memory and the domestic environment. In her work she uses familiar patterns from the home such as lace to capture moments in time and layers these memories between glass. Her use of glass, a hard yet fragile material, echoes the duality of memory of the past being in the present. Glass is a material I have considered incorporating into my clay work about memory, to represent something solid and steadfast in contrast to the temporal nature of dried clay.
I also attended the Aelwyd exhibition in January at Craft in the Bay. This Welsh word for hearth gives a clue to what the backbone of this exhibition is about: ‘Through their material making, story of use, the objects in this exhibition explore a deep-rooted sense of belonging and home’ according to the gallery description. There is a direct link to my investigation into memory and my family’s farm and the landscape surrounding it.
There I saw the ceramic work ofDeiniol Williams. I was interested in how he incorporates stones and silt from his family farm into the clay. This is something I want to experiment with when I return to Ireland and have written about in my Homemade Clay process post. The image below clearly shows the stones protruding from the clay. Williams also woodfires his pieces, something I would also like to try using wood from different trees scattered along the ditches of our farm. He has an well thought out website which shows his processes and techniques for firing which will no doubt become useful.
Deiniol Williams, woodfired ceramics, 2019
Written Word
Outside of the visual arts, I like to know how writers and poets express themselves in their works. Seamus Heaney and Patrick Kavanagh are two Irish poets I read due to their references to rural life, landscape and memories of their childhood. Kavanagh’s love poem to the whitethorn laden ditches inInnocence speaks directly to me. In his poem In Memory of My Mother he entwines his memory of his mother with the landscape of Monaghan. Heaney I came across English poet T.S. Elliot’s East of Coker, the second of four quartets. I think particular lines from the poem use aspects of nature to speak about traditions and remembering the past.
‘Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires, Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth Which is already flesh, fur and faeces, Bone of man and beast, cornstalk and leaf.’
These lines made me think of materials I could use and work. Ashes, earth, fur, bone, leaves: all readily available around the farm. Coincidentally, Pip also mentioned Eliot’s first poem from the quartet in one of our chats. We were discussing the idea of the past being in the present and how memory is the carrier of time. I was taken aback when I read the opening lines from Burnt Norton:
‘Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past.’
For me, it summed up all that I had been reading about in Henri Bergson’s writings about memory and time. It encapsulated my thinking about how memory is lives in the present with us and even in the unknown future. Eliot’s writings should me how he deals with memory and time passing.
Henri Bergson’s seminal book Matter and Memory 1896 has also influenced my thinking about memory. Writer Marcel Proust’s recounting of consuming a madeleine cake with tea has been key to my understanding of how the senses impact on memory, which for me is akin to mission of The Sensorial Object exhibition. I want to use touch, sound as well as sight as senses required to experience my work. The sound of water breaking down clay, the effect of the human hand on materials, the sight of objects that appear familiar yet undefinable.
Coming across Place and Experience by Australian philospher Jeff Malpas was the confirmation I needed that my assumptions about how home, memory, identity and belonging were true. All these subject areas are part of a circle that can only be completed when every single element is present. For example, without memory there is no identity, without home there is no belonging. Malpas asserts the vital role materiality plays in the our sensing of place and of the world around us.
This is just some of the artists, writers and poets that have influenced my thinking and my work. I come across people who are new and interesting to me almost everyday. Some ‘stick’, some don’t. Some seep into my mind and spring up again at weird times. Even as I type I’m thinking of the inspirational work I saw at Collect 2020; a website of Grymsdyke Farm that I need to go back and explore; artists that Duncan Ayscough told me to look up like Paul Soldner; and things I looked up after chats with Pip like Craft Studies Centre, Isle Crawford and the poet John Clare. There are slips of paper and typed notes on my phone of things I must still look up and research. All in good time, all at the right time.
Since my last post much has changed for me, but also for everyone else. I came home to Ireland on the 13th March. This was prompted by an email I received from C.I.T. that the college was closing following government instructions due to the Covid 19 pandemic. The Erasmus Office wanted all students abroad to make arrangements to come home to Ireland. I booked a flight for the following day.
It’s now almost two weeks since I arrived home and it’s been so busy on the farm with cows calving and calves being sick that I haven’t had time to do much work for college. My brother gave me a loan of his laptop to use for writing my blog and that, but it is sooooo slow. It’s like the old dial-up days. It works though, that’s something I suppose.
I wanted to include in this post some images I had taken the day before I left Cardiff. Ideas/thoughts that I had about my studio work.
Clay + Water =……….????
Using the forms I created on the throwing wheel, I played with the effect water has on dry, unfired clay. Water is an important element as it directly links to the memory of my grandfather and finding him in the water tank. I poured water into the hollow in the clay and left it for 12 hours to see what would happen.
I was intrigued by the results on the different clay pieces; some cracked, some crumbled, some flaked. It’s as if each piece ‘felt’ the water differently. The video above shows all 5 pieces and how water changed the surface of the clay.
What would these pieces be like if they were fired? Or if I made larger scale forms?
I thought of the image of the wellingtons I was using for my digital stitch workshop. I had taken images, as part of my initial research, of a pair of old wellingtons I had found in a shed. They were placed in front of and on top of the tank of water as well as in it, allowing them to bubble as they sunk to the bottom.
What if I sculpted these wellingtons from clay? Maybe 30cm high. Once dry, I could place them in a tank of water and see what happens. They would eventually disintegrate like other pieces I have tested. But I could take them out after a few hours, it might recreate the flaky, crumbling effect on the outer surface. Or crack and split them?
I had started a miniature model of these wellingtons the day I found out I was to go home to Ireland. Below is an image of the boot part of one of the wellingtons and beside it the photograph I took of the wellingtons on top of the tank. I think I had spent about 30 mins on this when I saw the email advising I go home.
Using terracotta to hand sculpt the wellingtons seen in the picture.
So what now? If I had bags of terracotta clay here I would start this again and continue my experiment. I also think if I had finished the digital stitch workshop I would use the skills I learned there within my studio work. Unfortunately I didn’t get to actually stitch the design I made, see below. I had considered unpicking stitches once it was done, playing with the idea of fragmented memory and impact of trauma on memories. I also thought of using water on thread and fabric, manipulating the dye in threads.
The past couple of weeks have been…..difficult. I’ve decided to write about it here because it has impacted on my thinking, concentration and my college work. There’ve been a couple of things that have made it hard for me.
Since the 1st March, I’ve been suffering with heavy head cold which I now believe could be sinusitis. It includes pains in my ears, sinuses and face, a stuffy nose and generally feeling low, especially low energy. Even as I type I have a pressure on my eyes. Lemsip and Sudafed only do so much.
The coronavirus sweeping the world has caused me to be anxious about being away from home and family. I think I’ve been on edge because my mind has been considering all the different scenarios from what could happen. I’m even wondering will I get to go home when I want or will there be a travel ban by then. I obviously know this is unhelpful and pointless. However, when I’m feeling physically sick anyway, it’s harder to be more logical and positive mentally.
I’ve been going through one of those normal ‘I don’t know what I’m doing’ stages in my studio work too. This happens plenty of times during the year, however because I’ve been sick and anxious, I haven’t been able to think my way out of this instance. As a result, I’m getting down on myself for not doing enough and feel like I’m falling behind in my work.
I’ve tried my usual techniques of writing my lists, prioritising jobs to be done and keeping a hand in with different aspects of my studio work. Some of this has helped. I’ve shared how I’ve been feeling with people in college and at home and I’ve also emailed my year head tutor at the college here. My deadline for assessment is getting nearer and nearer and this is not the ideal preparation time. I still have a sense of being overwhelmed, but I’m trying to be realistic about what I can do.
All these things combined has, as I said at the beginning, led to a difficult couple of weeks. Such is life but I think it’s important to include a post that shows how factors, like illness, world events etc. affect the making and thinking process. It has certainly thrown me off track for the moment.
I have approx. 3 weeks left in Cardiff. I hope my sinuses will get better soon and my concentration levels will improve, as well as my overall mood. I have workshops and other learning opportunities coming up that I’m looking forward to. I’ll do my best in the time I have remaining here. And keeping drinking my Lemsip, of course.
Áine Ryan 