Putting a project to bed is always a tricky matter. The black and white Self [other] series that I finished last summer is still relevant today because now it has been finished it is showing and being seen all over the place. No matter what I do to try and put this series mentally behind me, it still has a way of physically coming after me.
Tying up loose ends with Transmutations is likely to take equally as long. I’ve nearly finished writing the statement to accompany the work but the practical task of framing will not be complete for a few more weeks yet. Then I have the protracted task of marketing and showing this work which may take months or years even. This makes the idea of starting a completely new series mentally demanding. How can I ever hope to create fresh thoughts and realise new work when I’m always having to return to the practicalities of disposing of the old work?
Sometimes it seems that the more we put our endeavours behind us and into our past, the more they have a way of sneaking into our future. Time is not linear; it is cyclical, looped, spherical, it is a bundle of loose ends that we never may manage to tie off completely. Time interrupts plans and spoils ambitions and yet it is always whatever it needs to be in order to make life complete.