I love to criticise and bitch. It fills part of my moral conscious probably technically reserved for, I don’t know, being able to tolerate children. Problems with this, however, arise when reflecting upon my own practice: I am never fully satisfied with my work because I always seek to criticise my rate of conceptual progression. Upon completing a piece of work, the first thoughts that enter my mind are ‘well, ok, I’ve done that, what can I do now to further the idea? What’s next?’
I now find myself unsatisfied with simply making paints, and one direction I have been attracted to is the idea of converting the paint I have made back into food. This will add a substantial sense of narrative to my work, and highlight that, although food is able to transcend its original purpose, it also remains true to itself: It exists in a state of being between something old and something new.
‘Paint, Then Jam, Then Paint Again’
I see this as a fairly natural progression from the processes and connotations involved in making paint out of food, and there is something curiously indefinite about the whole process: I could spend the rest of my days concerning myself with converting food into paint, then back into food, then back into paint, then into food again until my blood vessels surrender and explode. But because I know that I can do this, there is no point, as professional development would become compromised and new, more engaging directions would not flourish.
So, what’s next?