In common with all new parents, the birth of my first child in 2010 changed many things in my life. One of those changes has been the way I think about my career as an artist. It was not until I became a mother that my creativity became a force too big for me to contain, but despite a legacy of public artist/parents it still seems to be a commonly held belief that being an engaged mother and serious artist are mutually exclusive endeavours. I don’t believe or want to perpetrate this. I like to imagine the two roles not as competing but to view them, force them gently if necessary, to inform one another.
I underwent this self-imposed artist residency for the summer vacation of 2016, a period of six weeks, during which all my careful project plans were carefully unravelled by the needs and desires of my son. I had thought to see what my son does when given the materials I work with and fully experience and explore his thought processes and ideas. I wanted to allow it to shape the direction of my work, rather than try to work “despite” having him around. The results were successful, but on a far more modest scale than I had anticipated, and the results took form in ways I could not have imagined.