It’s the small things

All photographs courtesy of John Collie and Christchurch Art Gallery Outer Spaces programme

And then it rained

Everywhere was water. My fingers, my thinking. I bought my first pair of gumboots. My vanity has prevented me until now. Tens of minutes spent examining each option for colour, fit, pattern… and then splashing with my favourite five year old through tides and climbing the sand mountains that the storm left. And the fabric,…

Opening

As with many things, you really had to be there. Once upon a time someone said to me about a work “It’s like the carnival squeezed through this corridor, and didn’t make it, and left a whole bunch of stuff stuck up in the ceiling, in the corners.” I paraphrase, but…. he also said “It’s…

We are ready

I’m here, I have arrived. The taxi driver asked me, so who is that body in your bag? I said, it’s 23kilos exactly, but I should have said, it’s exactly what I need. I have a poetry book, two silk scarves, peanut butter and green tea. I have perfumed oil, and red thread. I have…

But how do you know when it’s finished?

People often ask me how I know a work is finished. It’s always the same answer; because it makes a sound. It’s not quite a sound, more a pushing energy which says Take your hands off me, I am no longer yours, I am free, let me go. It’s usually a kind of shocking moment,…

Our darkest rooms

I found that in our darkest rooms, there were things which had been left for a long, long time. They became mountains which we were afraid to move for what might lie beneath them. They became forgotten. They became places which we needed hands to hold to enter into, and we could not reach each…