Every now and then my wife looks at the accumulation of my art work and asks what she is expected to do with it all should I die first. I do see that she has a point, as I have been pretty meticulous in keeping my work, including stuff which (in retrospect) is unlikely ever to sell. So today I began to confront the problem, and brought the step ladder up from the cellar in order to begin the evaluation process with a group of old boxed constructions which are stored on the top of the cupboards in the spare bedroom. These all date from about 2006, and formed a coherent project both with respect to my exploration of the medium and their subject-matter. They all dealt in one way or another with my attitudes towards and feelings about members of the family. The series is now incomplete because my nephew claimed one of them which had to do with my relationship with his father.
It is evident even to me that none of this stuff is likely to attract a buyer. Disposing of it, however, is not a straightforward matter. Going beyond the fact that the set is very well-framed, and I am sure that there must be another use for this material, I felt, as I looked through it, that I was standing at the start of another exploration in which the subject would be myself. Going through it would involve me in an activity I can only describe as the “archaeology of the soul”. It struck me, as I looked at piece after piece, that we are each constituted by and through our relationships with others. Interestingly, the weakest of the set is the one which deals directly with me. Probably there is greater potential for self-understanding by looking at what I made of other other members of the family. I’m sure there is more to be understood through this journey.
Sounds fascinating! Like an art therapy project.