February 14th, 2019

I heard a scratching in the attic the other day. I was reminded of a book I read a while back: ‘The Owl Service’ by Alan Garner. That had a scratching in the attic too - a ghostly one?

Perhaps it’s a metaphoric scratching?

During the long dark days of winter we retreat to the home, huddle around fires, eat comfort foods. Spring is just around the corner and it’s time to heed the scratching (whatever it means) as we begin to step outside and reconnect with the outside world.

I watched sculptor Antony Gormley’s ‘How art began’ programme recently (I’m still indoors… by the fire). He is travelling the world, exploring cave paintings. Some of the art works date from over 48,000 years ago. I was struck by a sense of common humanity: stencilled hands appearing in places across the world from Spain, France to Indonesia and Australia. Gormley talks about ‘a moment of lived time’. Making marks invokes a presence, a fleeting projection of who we are, a reflection of our existence. When we make art we are truly alive.

So, the scratching. It’s time to make a space, take a walk, tidy the studio, consider projects, new directions.

More prosaically, time to think about making an application to open your studio this year. With galleries closing, those that remain end up charging ever increasing commission which has the effect of making art even more expensive. One of the tenets of farOpen is to get art ‘seen and sold’ and opening your own space is a great way to achieve that.
And the scratching ?
Squirrels !  

How Art Began