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On a dark grey background, a close-up of soft sculpture heads, Kouros and Koure leaning into eachother

Kouros and Koure

More thinking, shaping, stitching...

Back in 2006 'Bare Boards and Blue Stilettos' was an uncomfortable installation immersing the audience in faulty communication and uncertain access. I began working on it in 2005, it was my first major piece of Disability Art.

Fanny the (animated) wheelchair, never made it beyond BB&BS, but Jessie...

 

Jessie seeks to be 'People Like You' - she was my first soft sculpture, born out of despair (unlike Kouros and Koure), reaching down into the depths to make her connections. When '(it might be disability, but) it's Still Life' was exhibited at Holton Lee in 2011, Jessie was intended to join Kouros and Koure, lying in the ground beyond them, her searching roots just beginning to show.

I began working on the roots, but somehow it never came together. I had moved far from Jessie's dark despair and I kept wondering if it was all too personal. Would Jessie speak to anyone else? I tried to put her back in storage, but as soon as 'People Like You' began taking shape, Jessie put herself back on the agenda.

 

Jessie began in the conflict between my personal, private identity and the face I wore in public. Jessie, unable to stand, sought an identity through symbolic roots, roots burrowing into some other state of presence.

Stitching, I am drawn to link the roots I'm now creating with mobile phones (rooted androids, superusers) and social networking. Reaching into our own darkness, roots become symbolic of the search for connectedness and symbols of that never-in-the-present state most people seem to be practicing.

 

Between posting, pinning, texting and tweeting, my thought for the day is that social networking could be the Borg and we are all being assimilated, willingly. Eagerly assuming that we are each expressing our unique individuality, are we in fact creating one monstrous identity where each one of us is just one more line of code? Or is it something else?

 

 

Lying face in the grass

arms reaching out, fingers

rooting into dark earth,

I am aware of life past;

hearts that have rotted away

from disintegrating bones;

breath that still whispers love words,

lust that still moans desire;

reaching out, seeking me, pulling

me down, calling me in.

And I am aware of

the love lifting me back

home, the seismic shift

in my life, my destiny.

 

 

 

Posted by Gini, 25 August 2012

Last modified by Gini, 25 August 2012