Y A N K E E L O N D O N S T U D I O
Musings from a Yankee artist abroad in London...
During the first lockdown, spent in a strict student accommodation near Baker Street, I spent my designated hour for exercise in Regents Park, observing the incremental changes to the plants and gardens as April moved into May, then June, then July. During the most recent lockdown, fortunate this time to be in a studio apartment with my own kitchen and bath, I spent hours during winter’s darkest days walking along the Thames foreshore at low tide. The visual and mental sorting of the flint shingle populated with both natural and manmade debris served as a meditation that altered with each tide. My gaze, captured by a glint of color or light, followed by an intuitive attraction and then I, like a magpie or a bowerbird, collected bits for my nest. I have been rewarded with an assemblage of ceramic sherds, black jet, red jasper and raw carnelian. In describing the attraction of "mudlarking" to a friend, I stumbled across the connection between what I was working on in the studio and what I was collecting on the Thames foreshore. The pieces that I find–the remnants that suggest a greater whole and all that’s left from another time–are the inverse of what I am exploring in the studio.