Wednesday, 11 September 2013
As I look back over what I've done this summer, I wonder about the thin line between self analysis and art therapy. I'm not ill, I'm just ageing, it's not easy nor do I have a choice in the matter. Trying to articulate this journey is almost impossible, I've no idea what words to choose, none come up to the mark for me. But images do, they tell of shadows, distant memories perhaps false, created histories and whispers. I'm layering my thoughts with these images, as I position one on top of the other. Some take on a dominant role, others float quietly behind, hoping to be un-noticed. This will take me to the words I need to write. This is nipping at my heels, demanding attention and I don't know where to begin, I'm in a fog.