Note Archive: July 2014

Lost, Reward If Found

I was digging through some old photos today and found this little one of a jacket I used to own. Beautiful was it, with its black & taupe panelling, elbow patches (yes!), large pockets and tartan lining. One of those rare finds, which you can’t seem to pass up despite the money and it not being your usual thing.

You take it home, dig out one of those antiquated padded hangers reserved for delicate garments and special items from lost relatives. You stare longingly at it, hesitantly shrug it onto your shoulders and strut around your room like you’re Freddie Mercury, wary of taking it into the big bad world. You begin forming a strange attachment, guarding it from possible pain and trauma, using it on only rare occasions… and one day, a friend asks to borrow it. Carefully, she knows how you feel.

Then it happens. A dark night, a chill in the air, a little too much tipple and vamoose! Into the dust of the darkness it disappears, swept into an underworld of lies and deceit.

You hear the news and like a scorned lover, you sigh heavy defeat; imagining scenes of it parading on less idyllic shoulders, hugging the curvature of another body and oblivious to your mourning. Your poor dear friend, mortified at the occurrence, finds a replacement, buys you flowers and very sweetly makes amends. You’re thankful that she cares – and the new jacket is warmer, simpler and still tartan inside. Time passes and your loss stings less, yet some days, you can’t help but think of that special, irreplaceable charm that the original held.

That, with a few artistic embellishments, is the tale of this little jacket. Thankfully, blogging in the past means that photographs of our time together exist, not relegating it to fading memories. One day I will create a replicate, with bells and whistles to make it more mine and infinitely better. For now, I shall have to look upon these pictures with idle hope, exhale a wistful sigh and slowly move on.

Cross Process

Our days at The Loft are numbered. After a six month stint at the Priory Walk space, we’ve little under two weeks left and one final exhibition to go.

It’s a bitter sweet symphony; I’ll miss my days surrounded by talented Loft friends, yet it’s also high time to put my own wheels into action. Of course, not without a detour first: clothes may not have been made in the last six months, but following the multi-disciplinary ethos of the Loft, I did partake in a little collaborative art project back in April, No Boundary Between.

Since the project transpired because of the Loft, it seems only fitting that it’s shown again at We Are The Loft Birmingham – which means some remaking, testing and refining on my part. Still, cross discipline arts practice is becoming dearer to my heart by the day, and the idea behind this project is still interesting, though I’ll explain it another day.

Anyway, since I’ll be deep in the woodlands of making over the next couple of days, I’ll leave you with a few process shots to whet your appetites. Don’t say I don’t share some insights!

Our Empty Vessels

An oldie, but ambiguous enough to still work. Written as the prelude to the Hypochondria of the Heart project.