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On the creative process / 11 May 2011

Picking up threads; resuming the tapestry that is my life here without repeating old patterns: that is my challenge. Looking back on stuff I wasn't detached enough from, or brave enough, to translate into artwork seems like a way of moving on without ignoring or denying the past.

I do feel very inspired. Words tumble out of me; this sense of creativity simmers and explodes. The variety takes me by surprise; the words giving birth to the children of my inspiration as the broody wordsmith in me continues to produce offspring.

Nestling close, and harder to express, is my next visual piece. Exhibition and/or installation, its DNA twisting into a body of work that, not yet fully formed, is still too fragile to be exposed. Incubating in the womb of inspiration, it evolves and begins to demand attention; it demands my silence and my devotion to its needs.

Silence is crucial for this embryo to continue its journey; to grow into a recognisable form. It needs the perfect details, like tiny fingers and toes; it needs a voice that will speak to you; louder than words and shaped to disturb you, yet rooted in a familiarity that will give it an obviousness you will not be able to ignore; accessibility you will not be able to resist.

I need to begin with grab rails.