“Mum,” said the middle child on Thursday afternoon with a great deal of seriousness,”I don’t know how to live.” Good grief, I thought… what now? I was about to embark on a gentle and encouraging speech about how life is full of complex feelings, and suggest that whilst it sometimes feels confusing, I loved him, and that his current state of emotional turbulence was only normal and to be expected occasionally, etc, etc, etc, when he continued. “Yeah,” he said sorrowfully, “I’m not allowed Mortal Combat, which, you know, makes it kinda hard to fit in with my friends.” He stared at me to see if his ploy had worked. “OK! I’m actually rather busy over the next two days getting this exhibition stuff ready, so next time you want to try manipulating me into a buying a game that is way too old for you, and which incidentally I won’t ever let you have at home anyway, you might want to pick a less stressful time.” I ended with a loving and maternal smile, of course.
Despite various complaints from children, not to mention the rain, I am really pleased to say that on Friday evening I arrived at Barmouth Kitchen where my work is being exhibited, completely ready and with everything in its place. And, that lots of people turned up to take a look and also buy prints. This was the second of my exhibitions at Barmouth Kitchen, or, for that matter, ever. Just like the last time, I learned a lot from the process, and also had a brilliant evening talking to friends and strangers who had come to support me.
For those of you who weren’t able to make it, here are just a few examples along with the statements I wrote to accompany the images. They will be available to see at Barmouth Kitchen for a while yet and are for sale, so do pop along and get in get in touch if you’d like to order. I’ll make sure they’re all up on my website over the next few days too.
The child wanting Mortal Combat has just come to show me a different game which he thinks isn’t as bad, but the point of it seems to be something to do with squashing and exploding an animated man standing in a lift, which I’m not convinced is much better. Still, who am I to say? Hang on, oh yes, I’m his mother!
Have a great week! SJ x
Barmouth Kitchen, 2 Barmouth Road, Wandsworth, London SW18 2DN – Huge thanks to all their support and to Ryan who helped me hang the pictures on Thursday evening surrounded by my screaming boys.
Images (c) SJField 2016
Things I noticed
I took all of these pictures on my phone. I am not apologising or bragging about where or how they are produced. It’s an important part of their existence. We in the 21st century are increasingly connected to the digital world, especially the one that is recorded on our phones. These small objects which we take everywhere with us offer a digital record of our realities at any one time. During the last 12 to 15 months I have used my phone extensively and obsessively to record what I see as I go about my day. Editing the pictures doesn’t take long but it does keep me occupied when I perhaps could/should be doing other things, and might be viewed as therapeutic, but could also be referred to as avoidant. By mediating the world through my phone do I render the world less authentic or real? Often people can’t work out whether the pictures are paintings or photographs, and that lack of certainty about the nature of the pictures generates questions about how we relate to reality as I, and the rest of us, dive further and further into the digital sphere.
£80 for mounted only, 8×8 or 7×10
£95 for mounted and framed, 12×12 or 11×14
All limited to 5 editions
Printed on 310gsm William Turner paper and supplied with certificate of authenticity on request