Just travelled back. Being away is always a little bit tricky. It means not having easy access to the stuff that is usually around us, the collected stuff that might become something or other, the clothes that you might feel like wearing on a given day, or to tuck into the food normally available. Not that any of it's important really. Being away pays for the days at home. So I'm not complaining just stating my thinking. It does mean that my appreciation for home is greater than when it was elsewhere but always available. It also means being exposed to even more possibilities for making work.
I've got several bits of work on the go, photographic stills and moving image. None of these are fully resolved yet (if they ever truly are anyway) and any one of them could continue as long I do. Chopping and changing, rather than focusing on one thing, makes each piece (series/sequence/set) take longer to complete. And there is always more pulling at me, wanting to be noticed and/or recorded. So that really there are endless pieces begun and unfinished waiting for attention.
This blog is unresolved in my mind, how to make it work for me - to suit my way of working... is it slowly evolving into whatever it might become or is it a scrambled version of my thinking? I can't tell. It feels strange to have something undefined (other than it's name) hovering in the background expecting to be accessed and attended to, like a newly found distant relative. Once the connection has been made can it ever be stopped?
In my ignorance I never really considered Picasso to be that great until seeing a retrospective that filled me with awe and excitement. His work was superb. Every day he filled his sketchbooks/ notebooks with ideas. Driven to produce, to explore a line, realize a thought. Playfully and seriously. Looking and seeing, noting. All those thoughts expressed, made visible and so very adept at it was he.
Each day I continue to explore the ideas in my head and those that are presented to me even just through proximity. One that I will not be exploring any time soon (if indeed ever) was the young businessman on the escalator trailing a suitcase and singing "Nick nack paddy wack give a dog a bone..." the darn song has followed me all the way home and is threatening to ruin my slumber.