The textile installation is an enlarged replica of a torn lined scrap paper note that I had up in my studio near East Street Market, London for most of the lockdown period. The title 'Clarity of Desire' comes from an Abraham Hicks podcast that I used to listen to during my journey from home to my studio. For most of the lockdown period I felt overwhelmed by the collective fear and state of affairs, but also looking after my family (with three teenage boys) in the best way possible. Even though I wasn't in my creative flow during that time, going to my studio was my sanctuary. Just to be in my studio, alone, would allow me to breath and process life and I would always reconnect with that place of love. I'd listen to Pema Chodron's podcasts and feel reassured and inspired. I would be reminded of the law of attraction, and that fear's the real virus, and that the pandemic would calibrate you to what you've been wanting. There is no greater virus than fear. The thing that's happening across the world right now is this; it is activating 'clarity of desire', and when there is a strong desire, then there is a strong calling of well being to you. Create the virus of stability, of optimism, the virus of well being, and source energy! When things fall apart, welcome the unwelcome! Be comfortable with uncertainty, let's make friends with that.
During a site visit with Clive to find out a suitable location/spot for the wall hanging, we saw this tree neat one of the entrances to the garden. I like the idea of welcoming visitors to the 'CUFA exhibition' with a big Welcome, and that when they look at the reverse of this insignificant bit of scrap paper (larger then life, hanging from a tree), they are invited to lovingly welcome their unwelcome-ness as well, their thoughts and feelings of fear, grief, loss, etc, in order to practice self-compassion. and to love the world just as it is during those challenging times.
Clive is great at drawing on top of a photograph digitally. In no time he created this sketch on his phone of what the work could look like within the garden space. It's direct, playful and magical, and I'm hoping that my finished textile piece/installation will transcend some of these qualities.
Small sewing machine sketch of work.
During an intense time of online work, online chats, online gallery visits, online social media addictions, online yoga, online teaching and online zoom calls, the making of this nearly redundant vintage looking replica of 'torn lined paper with scribble writing, was not just fun, but crucially essential to me. The longing for simplicity within an analog world, the nostalgia within that, and the therapeutic meditative motion of sewing, the time consuming element of craftsmanship, allowed me to escape, process, reconnect and realign.