This project has challenged me in a most unexpected way. I have been forced to look in the shadows and been surprised and happy with what I have seen. Normally I would have avoided looking, just in case, and remained in the dark.
Where could my practice sit? Where might I find new audiences? Where indeed?
Rightly or wrongly I decided exactly how I wanted this project to develop, right at the outset. I had two objectives, to engage the public and undertake something dramatic. I have reflected on these objectives from a number of perspectives, projecting my work onto the white cliffs of Dover, hanging whole or sections of floral paintings in woodland or a local park, but each time I gravitated back to my original idea of three huge posters (3 x 2m) on a hoarding on the street where I live.
To say nothing happens here would be to dismiss the recent stabbing, and the person knocked down when a car deliberately mounted the pavement, but it would be true to say that nothing particularly uplifting happens in this street. My project would change that, will make a difference, and even when the posters weather, or those that know no better want to make their mark, that will also be part of the project, an engagement of sorts, but also a reflection on the cycle of nature and life.
How do I feel? Eager to get started, excited by how the work will look in such a space, curious about how the work will be received. The unexpected blossoming of a confidence I never knew existed.
What this project has also highlighted is that my boundaries are not ‘out there’ but internal, an academic core that can only be accessed and revealed, by a continual process of deeper and more focused reflection, and the translation of that cerebral activity that manifests as my personal journey, through my chosen materials of watercolour and paper. I will continue to push this boundary, long after this project has weathered on the hoarding.