NEW ROOM

I moved into a new flat yesterday. A house full of strangers.  An empty room. With wooden floors. Something I have always wanted.  It was after staying a The Royal with its deserted halls and barren rooms that I felt the urge to move the table from our recording studio to my new room. I wanted to film in there before I had become familiar with my surroundings. 

Before I had meet any of the flat mates. 

Before I knew where the light switches were or what way the door handle pulled open. I felt the sense of disorientation and unfamiliarity with my surroundings was crucial  to the work  especially as it contrasted with the act of licking the table which by now had come almost  second nature.

I liked the new sense of self consciousness I suddenly felt as I licked with the curtains open to the street for natural light .
How I felt like an intruder in somebody else's home.
Hearing foreign voices in the kitchen and not wanting to leave the the newly safe confines of my room.
I didn't have any music at first either which made the whole experience incredibly different
and made me think it was far more effective without sound than I had initially thought.

In socks and winter. curtains half closed. Room lightbulb only. good, but to soft light for the colours on the table surface.

curtain opens. 3pm

It’s the 17^th of August 11 its pouring with rain out side the window. Yesterday was snow

I have just moved into my new house. A flat of strangers.

Today is my last day to be able to shoot licking my table

I have a cold.

Its cold in the room
its cold outside

I don’t feel like licking a table

I have an ulcer in my mouth

My new room looks out onto the footpath

Ground floor

Kate bush is on my record player

I have to film with my curtains open

For the good light

After only 7 minutes of licking my knees become too sore to carry on much longer and I have to pause to put on my frumpy pants to warm up.

My mouth is sore 

and so is my tounge

           gallerysoft  spot lights and lamp on wheels. trying to adjust lighting for least shadow as possible

spot light and gallery spot lights. far too bright on one side...

Almost, but  too strong a shadow on the right side of the wall

 trying again with the hair dryer  for movement in the hair, but thinking more and more not to use it as it anymore.

 gaffing tape to my shirt and inner thigh  to stop my shirt from falling down and interrupting the take after the first two or three minutes of filming

I love the composition of the last two. As stills especially

The environment in which I make my work is as crucial to the process for me as the work itself. 
Before I can start creating or begin to delve into my mind to really think, I need my room and desk clear of all things unattractive. 


Things like glue sticks and cosmetics with their garish green and yellow are kept away in draws as to not clashes with the naturally accruing colour palette from the combinations of object around my room. Books. Boots. Lamps. Feathers. Furs. Pencils. Furniture. Notes. Paintings.


Without meaning to sound superficial or contrived, if these things are not hidden from view, I feel physically unsettled inside and all I hear in my head is a clutter of noise.

This may have something to with going through a Steiner school since I was 4. 
 Every room a different wash of colour. Materials all natural, be it wood, paper, muslin, paint or fleece. There was an effortless emphasis on aesthetics. 


A candle, always lit in the middle of a circle before we delved into stories you could almost taste, of ancient Rome and Egypt. 


The schools environment was a continuously calming place to learn in. Full of ritual and routine. 


I would say it is this ritual and routine that has stayed with me and influenced my way of working than categorising my process as meticulous or obsessive compulsive. 

After more than I month of filming these licking series , my knees were so bruised and purple I would dread having to crawl back up on to the table and lean.
They stayed bruised for two weeks after.