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> > Gini

Artist and wordsmith, whose work engages with issues of access, from acknowledged physical needs to perceived symbolic exclusions. After being selected as one of DAO's New Voices in 2011, Gini's online presence has become an integral part of her arts practice

Origin and Insertion.

28 October 2012


Purple text on white ground, this hard to decipher textual art reads: I like French wine and Italian food, love reggae and foreign language films; Ibsen's plays and no. i don't relate to Disability Arts, I'm not disabled.

Having trouble with the precise positioning of Kosta's pecs, I decided to try Google. Before beginning on the life-size figures I did do a lot of research, which included borrowing medical tomes and studying anatomy on-line. However I never actually Googled a specific body part, and here at my first attempt found apparently exactly what I needed: Origin and Insertion, including details of the specific ribs these muscles are attached to and how they are attached. This is particularly appropriate...

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Post Oparalympiad

10 September 2012


A wooden figure, the kind artists use, in shades of blue grey with a bright pink heart on a black background

Digital friends, electronic social life, podcast entertainment, filmed performance: all good, but no substitute for the real live thing. Not living in London, access (including financial access) to the phenomenon known simply as 2012, was problematic. Knowing no local people with any real interest in experiencing the Cultural Olympiad, I actually felt far more isolated than involved.   I was at the mercy of the media, and misleading statements like The Best Disability Arts practitioners...

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The Chairborne Identity

4 July 2012


close-up photo of the inside of an open heart-shaped box. The box is bright pink, the background black and white

I should give you my car-keys, you could park my car anyday. That's amazing, I couldn't do that with a wheelchair. You really can get around in that tiny space, well done.   And I boil. Spontaneous anger drives me to growl: Carkeys? Hand over your spine, I've got wheels of my own. You are so clever walking; I couldn't, not with those legs! And: Congratulations, you really do work those legs well, amazing you don't even fall over...   There is no real logic to this rudeness. I wasn't...

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Present Opportunity - accessible pavement?

17 June 2012


red background with a drawn line swirling in a blue squiggle

I had a meeting to attend, in my home town, just 8 minutes away in the car, however it became necessary to travel in my wheelchair so I allowed a good hour. It wasn't enough. Deeply shaken and in a lot of pain I was forced to abandon my journey after an hour. I was two thirds of the way there. Wheelborne, do I have the right to expect that a pavement should be accessible and traversable? Do I have the right to expect that a dropped curb should facilitate my safe delivery to a second...

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Spatial justice and privilege

29 May 2012


granite boulders of varying heights, with smooth tops for sitting on, surround the base of a tree.

My life in Tokyo is not exactly domestic, there are few meals to cook or chores to attend to. The robot cleaner takes care of bare essentials and meals are mostly eaten out. Passing a restaurant, we check for access and availability and by the time I roll in, several seats have been removed to give me a choice of seating. I am greeted with dignity, with no sense of being too much bother, or of being patronised. This area that I call home is quiet and comfortable, with very little evidence of...

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22 April 2012


Three little red and white flags

The Dawn Chorus seeps into my consciousness with liquid joy. Night brought sleep, so I open my eyes with a question. These days play out on a yo-yo string, some are stretched out towards the promise of wholeness; some like this one are curled in on the pain. And waiting an unfocused kind of waiting, between moments that I try not to fritter away. Yesterday comes like that when I wedge myself against the garden wall and paint a long view. And later I watch the birthday flags waving from...

Comments: 4

Where to now?

23 January 2012


wire outline for small figure

Without Con.text I hover uncertain of my direction. I feel like my bones have been picked clean and a howling gale whistles through me; it snatches everything and yet still leaves me here. Where to now? I'm working and wishing that my inspiration will take flight. I miss my muse, I miss my heart. Today there is nothing to say. Slow moving marks on a blank page say nothing yet, and nothing yet I have been playing in vain with big, bold charcoal and flirting with inconsequential words: yearning....

Comments: 1

The View From Here exhibition: too much honesty?

2 December 2011


a knitted hat on a plaster head

Sitting in Residence at Salisbury Arts Centre, talking to loads of interesting people is fascinating. I wanted people to be honest with their personal responses and gut reactions, and have been frequently taken by surprise at just how much honesty I'm getting. I had this conversation with a young person as we were surrounded by Martin Bruch's Bruchlandungen: How I relate to this is really uncomfortable. Like, these are the important bits of your life, yeh? And these are the bits I throw away,...

Comments: 1