I have been thinking about last week quite a lot and the relationship between making and thinking and talking. I am not sure how well our working with clay day went, this is good as it was never supposed to be simple or as I keep thinking - Nobody said it would be easy- but I wonder how level anything can actually be.
For my birthday Kim got me two books from the Whitechapel publications Documents of contemporary art One called Failure and one called Everyday. I started off this morning by spending a couple of ours reading about the everyday and it got on my nerves. It felt a bit like artists had got so sick of trying to claim stuff that was special that they now had to claim what was everyday as well. I think this may be a trend or perhaps a turn but it just made me think of all the people I've seen walking their dogs at dawn recently when I've been working and how they are just as attuned to the beauty in the everydayness of the birds singing and dew and the mist, it feels like art can never bring this closer but perhaps it can give us small glimpses of spaces for things to open up.
When I watch the time lapse I think how comfortable I am in the space of making and building, how familiar it is - making is always a return for me, a return to what I do although I spend most of my time now doing other things.
I think I need a bit longer for the day to settle before I can work out what it meant but one big lesson which I think I knew already but need to keep relearning is that empathy (everyone will be happy making shapes out of clay all day because I am) is a blunt instrument when it comes to understanding social situations.
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