Performing to no one and yet with everything
Walking in quantum fields
“Physicists tell us that our reading of time is crude, but artists have always known this; they constantly mine the past even as they’re imagining possible futures. How can change — be it new machines or new ideas — be visualised if it can’t be first imagined? And who would ever assume that imaginations run along straight lines. Most artists are, in some shape or form, time-travellers and ghost-whisperers.” Jennifer Higgie, The Other Side.
I open the front door to be greeted by a blast of cool air and the darkness outside.
I take a breath, psych myself up and step out into the early morning. I have my camera bag slung over one shoulder, a bag of neon fabric slung over the other shoulder, and my camera tripod in my hand.
I’m heading for the unknown. At this early hour, all I know is that I’m looking for an adventure. I want to discover something. I want to connect with a new sensation.
There is no one about, and I’m amazed at myself, that my curiosity is greater than my fear.
Months ago I started visualising neon forms moving through the landscape. When walking in the woods strips of neon would leap out at me from the trees. Marks left by the foresters in a language of symbols I didn’t understand.
This is where the humans have been, those neon flashes told me. This is where man chops down living trees to create an easier path through the woods. Get out of my way, these signs say.
How do ideas come to me? Slowly dripping into my consciousness like a leaky tap that, with rising irritation, keeps me distracted. Until one day it is present, fully formed, undeniable, and I find myself buying three bolts of synthetic chiffon in a fabric shop in Shepherd’s Bush.
These three colours, pink, green and yellow have morphed into many forms in my work over the last few years. They are my fellow performers in the field.
