Identity. It's who I am. But who am I? Over that last two years I have entrenched myself in fundraising and moving to Europe, but I only conceptually knew what that meant. Now that we're here, the support raising has wound down, we have our residency handled, and an apartment, I don't know what to do. I wake up in the morning and I don't have that one thing in my day that will make me feel like I've accomplished something. We have been meeting new friends, and building other relationships and getting into a rhythm. I personally just feel a need to make something happen, to get down and dirty, to create.
I was speaking with someone the other day about restorative art and all I could think of was making new art out of old, thrown away, street stuff. We found a chest of drawers and I worked to inject each little woodworm hole with a syringe to kill the infestation. I did the same with some chairs that we bought cheaply.
The most recent project, though, is taking a very basic IKEA bookshelf that we found on the street and making a sort of collage out of it. I used pages from books from the 50's - 70's that no longer had covers, just pages (and were destined for the recycle bin), and newspapers from the late 70's. Here is how the project panned out. I'm not going to do captions because it's self explanatory. The best part about it, though, is due to the time period of the papers I was using, the bookshelf took a conspiratorial theme. Good times.