After an obviously strange and impactful year my mental state deteriated: it is an ongoing issue, however lockdown in particular, and being on furlough, excaserbated it. My studio was a good space to work things out. I typically create characters or landscapes; over the last year or so I have been utilizing creating patterns, which allow me to calm myself down whilst being productive.
Within lockdown I’ve created several works utlising repeating patterns. These three images are among the first created, specifically to interact with each other – a chronological order of 0-1-2. Whilst the pattern of gold leaf shapes is simple, the size of the canvas (30cm x 20cm) and the way the backgrounds were manipulated created a…
How I am creative now. Once, as a small child on a rare family holiday in France, we walked by a fast-flowing tree-lined river. Walking ahead, I came across a perfectly smooth knot of wood that had been tumbled and turned in the water. It was big enough to hold in the palms of my hands, and…
Tell us about your creation? Trying to explain to children about the pandemic was difficult. I remember my sister teaching my 5 year old nephew the word ‘unprecedented’ to explain why she didn’t have the answers to all his questions. It was hard to reassure children when we didn’t know whether schools would open, when…
Tell us the journey from first seeing the prompt to the final creation? When I first saw the prompt I thought, “of course Creative Ripple want us to explore one of the most stressful times of my life!” But in all seriousness, I knew it would be something I would struggle to complete, making it…
Tell us the journey from first seeing the prompt to the final creation. I have been thinking recently about a trip I made during a break in the lockdowns last year and chose to explore that for my chosen memory. I had no real idea of what aspects of my time away I would represent…
Last night, when I was sat on our rooftop,
I thought I heard you call my name,
Like you used to when I was little,
Like you did when you answered my long-distance calls.
And we played, as we did,
Tennis on the moors and Crazy Eight in the evenings.
The humbug mints and the rock cakes piled high in the tin,
Dancing the square tango around the kitchen,
And the sunny drives, drifting off to sleep,
As we travelled north from Looe after a day on the beach,
My head bobbing side to side in the August sun.
The pocket money toys and the souvenir dolls,
Brought back from coach trips abroad,
The loud tick of the bedroom clock and the bright, pink fluffy bathroom mat,
The crunchy marmalade toast and the funny curved grapefruit knife,
(I’d never seen one of those before),
And the chink of the teacups in the morning as I woke. My Disney glass.
Last night, I’m sure I heard you call my name,
But perhaps it was just the sigh of the stars as they collected you,
Not yet, I said, it’s not finished!
This story doesn’t have a title,
This play doesn’t have a cast,
This song doesn’t have an ending…
But when I heard you call my name, I couldn’t help myself, I answered:
And perhaps, just perhaps, you heard me?
The Process: When considering all my memories from the pandemic I returned to my journal, which I kept quite regularly throughout lockdown – it kept me sane. It also helped me to record all the many different thoughts and feelings that I had, although I already knew before I opened it the one memory I…
I chose this image because it exemplifies my memories of the pandemic, it’s kind of reminiscent of the protests that happened throughout the lockdowns. Mostly whilst I was training to be a police officer, as well as the fact that I learnt to and then spent most of my time around motorbikes during the pandemic….
As I am now
Because of who I was
Before when I was less than who?
No lonely child
Sitting on cold sandstone
Whittling sticks making soldiers to fight
And I followed vengeful pathways
Waiting in walls
Built up as protection
Until they all came falling down
Into new ground
A fresh revelation
We all fought back, giving out to
The Pandemic: We was robbed. We was all robbed. We all had something or someone taken away from us. People died, jobs were lost, politicians lied and celebrated their own incompetence. As creatives we are asked day in day out to talk through this disaster. We all have our memories of what went wrong, what…
Something that’s such a blessing, but for me it’s like a curse,
A loop on replay in my mind, repetition of a verse,
A years worth of memories that could fit within a life time,
Encapsulated and merely summarised within this short rhyme,
So much betrayal, abuse and countless lies,
I can’t forget any of it, no matter how much my heart cries,
I feel them with all my senses and relive them like they’re present,
It’s my very own version of a personal depressant,
I have flashes in my minds eye, it distracts me like a phenom,
But I don’t delight in its company, it poisons me like venom.
I hear your pathetic excuses and it strikes within my animus,
This is one situation where I don't wish to remain magnanimous,
Something just wasn't right, I felt it throughout my being,
Then I stumbled upon the evidence, it was that which sent me fleeing,
The dirty sheets, the yellow top, the change in your behaviour,
In pleasant memories of past, I can now no longer savour,
Got me questioning all of it, and how you're inherently feral,
But removing myself from you didn't get rid of this level,
Of ultimate betrayal, the recollection of all remains,
A combination of bad memories that'll leave my heart stained.
Tell us the journey from first seeing the prompt to the final creation? This was a deep one lol! As soon as I saw it I knew what I was going to write about. It made me think about something that happened in November 2020 and how I still can’t get it out of my…