In Kind

I was totally appreciative and happy to have been given so much,the bursary prize, the trip, the gallery exhibiting space and facilities, an opportunity to make and show new work, and access to new audiences. A key part of partnership projects that is so valuable to an independent artist, and an essential part of funding applications is the balance between all partners and the invaluable support (In Kind). This generosity of exchange was demonstrated as visitors were so openly creative in their feedback. On the D-day (de-installment day)I felt so heart-heavy to have to put everything away so shortly after setting up. I kept unwrapping and re-wrapping the textile books and dolls reflecting that during the working in situ event there was a lot of wrappings, offerings, stories and dreams shared and confessions going on. For instance, talk of the mother who made her daughter work for a Jewish tailor but who didn't want to be a seamstress, but loved textiles and stitching work.

 "I hope whoever buys that textile reliquary piece really treasures it."  

Later, as still trying to get the endless collections of curios into various boxes to bring home again, I am visited by another volunteer, a retired scientist, now studying art, finding himself not much good at thinking outside the box, but rather good at making hats.  As my husband waits to help fold my treasures back into the shape of the front room of our home, there suddenly takes place an interesting conversation about his head and the fact that no hat in the world can make fit...apart from a Brunel Stove Pipe.  There is talk of the possibility of a rigged ship on the top inspired by family ship building tradition, and I reflect that the week in Bristol has been about generosity of exchange, sharing ideas and best practice, references, links, opportunities. 

Thinking about it, I had the idea that working in situ in the gallery would allow time and space to work. I thought would get a chance to work quietly and productively at the beautifully cloth covered oak table in the centre of the room, "nice to see you working in your element" said a visiting artist friend, but I am thinking, fat chance, as people wanted to talk. Admidst the quiet contemplative slowed down atmosphere, I felt at times overwhelmed with the generosity of spirit, the kind art critiques, memories shared, offers of tea and food to eat, ideas exchanged, thoughts about possibilities for projects and new work, there was a bit of artist/student tutorial thing going on here and there, and, surrounded by a visiting writing group, offerings of poetry and stories of My Little Pony, all add to the lively goings on. Until a group of art students sent to visit and the tutor suggests arranging chairs, and I find myself surrounded by a sea of expressionless faces, until three students leap up and start discussing ideas and getting cracking on responding to the invitations in the room to be playful, everyone breathes a sigh of relief.   Changing the space once more, I decided to really get cracking with making something, an evaluation/report with a difference, a lovely girl, sent by her tutor "don't come into college, go visit Jill Carter", stayed all day with her boyfriend who kept muttering Doctor Who references, and I put them to work, playing at making a giant report with leftovers found in the space.  Later it was described as a possible diorama you might imagine in your dream and left hanging in the corridor with a set of puppets.

"A diorama you might imagine in a dream," he said.