Saturday, November 03, 2012

I went home this week, a far to rare occurence
this landscape was my playground as a child, wild band of youngsters finding the delight in throwing toadstools and jumping in Cow pats.
My youngest asked how many times I'd been in the field at the rear of my family home, not just my family home but my Dad moved there when he was 4yrs and is now hitting his 80's.
There is something nice about evolving traditions with the next generation and I really like the idea of the links with the past and how they infiltrate the present.
I'm currently working on a involved piece that is summarising that very feel.
starting with my Dads dad who was gassed in the trenches in France.
I'm looking at the development of hand granades in WW1 and how the inginuity of the troops, can translate into an art piece that blend handmade genrades out of Jam tins and  lessons on cricketand the ability to chuck a boomb really far.
an essential asset.

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