I have not managed to post much recently, probably because I was being too critical, expecting the work to be profound and meaningful. I feel that I must allow myself a bit more space to mess up and not expect perfection.
Having read Helen’s insightful and important comments on a recent post of mine I am inspired to try and make a comment, put something out there, take part, join in, even just for the sake of doing it.
Looking through my iPhone snaps from the past few weeks, I intuitively choose these two images, one of my 4 year old son’s back as he bent over in the bathroom to check the scales (he’s learning to count) and another posted through to me by my husband, while visiting the Israel museum, he was posting images back to me because same son decided he had enough of museums and wouldn’t come in, so I stayed outside in the sculpture garden, occasionally receiving visual tit bits from inside the building.
The two images made me think about the contrast between how over used the female figure is in representation and art in contrast with the figure of the child and how potentially vilified a mother might be when using the bodies of her children in her art. How come something that is so much part of life, particularly women’s life is disallowed to us as artists? A prohibition operating through two distinct registers, one of fear and blame, when a representation of a child is immediately associated with sexual deviance of the worst kind and the other through trivialisation and a kind of devaluation, in the words of a female acquaintance who is a respected photographic curator and gallery owner explaining why she didn’t like the recent Home Truths exhibition, she said “too many babies”.