Monday, May 14, 2007
From time to time I'm accused of not liking my own work. I usually agree even though it's not really true. I probably like my stuff more than anyone else does but for a limited time. The day after is time to move on; to do something else.
I think drawing, painting, picture-making - by whatever means - is at bottom a neurotic impulse that you never really get rid of.
I haven't exhibited my work since I was a teeenager and the recent group show (see below) gave me further pause for thought. Once I'd framed up all 37 pictures for the exhibition I was hit by the awful feeling that it looked like the framing department of a furniture store.... I'm accustomed to seeing my work as a jumbled collage on a pin board in front of my desk. If I had the space I'd cover all the walls around me with this serendipitous effusion. I did the collage above - mostly from things you've seen before - with this in mind. Then I put it in a tidy little frame like all the rest. It looked trapped. It looks better here, hovering in space surrounded by layout, text.
Digital artwork is a medium that hasn't quite won its spurs. It suffers - as a print - from a whif of inauthenticity...Not real, not really there.