My first encounter with cells ..
2009 painting and drawing on wallpaper
A collaboration between bacteria and infection, a deadly mix.
A part of an exhibition in the Collection, Lincoln
This was part of the frequency festival based on the four seasons, this was part of spring into summer via a shed full of fake fur for grass and fake ivory and very dark, among this there was this painting that looks dull until light illuminates it from the surroundings …. beautiful!!
Can you guess what the object is??!
‘Creative Drawing from Creative Writing’
This object sits a little way to my right, the light reflecting off its many facets. Today it is silent, but its colour always gives it away; it can’t hade away from me. Unloved it is rigid, dull and useless, but it my hand it awakes, flexes, come to life.
The object’s two sharp teeth are hidden behind red metal lips. Sometimes the teeth glint, silver and menacing. Like a hungry puppy it will take anything I give feed it. But even though it bolts its food it never gets enough. It sits with its mouth slightly open, waiting patiently to be fed again. It seems though that whatever I feed is never quite right; too plain, too dull? It spits it out, leaving a trail of mess in its wake.
The base of this object is slightly rubberised – just enough to be able to remove it from the hard metal of its body. One long black arm with a single beckoning hand protrudes from underneath. At my will the limb extends and retracts in jerky, clumsy movements by means of a channel cut into its underside.
The back of the object hides all its inner workings. Here are the guts of the beast: levers and springs, coils and rivets. It’s surprising to me that the objects parts never need oiling but instead have collected a thin layer of dust even though it is well used. When I peer further into this cavity I can just see its forward – sticking tongue – tiny, red and pointed.
The top of the object is at a 45 degree angle to its base. Someone has thoughtfully provided three shallow grooves so that my fingers don’t slide from the steep slope. Or maybe they are only decorative because the grooves, with their rounded ends decrease in equal size, as if they are tumbling down – hill into a letter – box hole in the top. If I peer into the hole, I can see again, in the dark, the small red tongue, poised and pointing, ready to taste.
The red metal weighs heavy in my hand and the object resists me when I press down. But it does bend; pushing against its internal springs, I make the two teeth bite in unison. I can hear the smooth chomp as its teeth punch through. This time, thank goodness, the perfect white discs fall in a dry heap into its flat belly.
Writing By Claire Fuller
‘Jeff’
Meet the man in the hall …
‘Jeff’
A 3D drawing sitting comfortably in the corridor watching life go by ans students working hard.
Collaborated with Chris Bagnall
Ashley Horsley 