I am sitting in the midst of a few sky blue plastic boxes and poorly folded clothes which constitute my second rate attempts at packing my belongings as I prepare to move into Liverpool city centre. I have been suprised at how little I actually own but quite pleased as well. I have lots of art material I need to organise as well as the appalling fact I have not read the material I brought home from a jaunt to the last Venice Bienniale back signifies that this may take a while.
I hate packing. Its one of my most hated things and I really don’t ‘hate’ many things. As I am packing to move, it feels like I am conducting my own clearing of my possessions after my own demise. A tad far fetched and dramatic maybe but I have been confronted with a lot of items and objects that have strong associations with periods and times spanning my entire life, a situation I haven’t really encountered before. The power of these objects and questions of their ownership and lifespan have been at the fore of my thoughts tonight. It really is amazing that the accumulation of papers, drawings, photographs, bills, clothes etc are the prominent lasting physical eveidence of my life.
Will I read Venice material before this years?….
Here’s my stand out piece from last festival anyway;
Just discovered that the one of the Mexican Pavilion curators, Príamo Lozada died in an accident in Venice during install, makes the work seem more poignant now.