Some observations in the studio occur obliquely to the work being made, such as here where the water of an ink-work spills over the edge of paper onto the table. Other observations occur after making a piece of work, which is what happened while writing up my notes.
On the website there are two sculptures cast from water. When they arrived back from the foundry, two collected sea-smoothed stones seemed to be their companions. One has a line drawn by a seam of mineral, outlining where its sculpture resides, whilst the other offers a hollow for its sculpture to lie in, allowing it to be adjusted to view different aspects. Both stones seem as if they were waiting for this coming together.
As I was writing earlier today about the moment that brought them together, I noted an ancient connection - how rock and water always seek communion, how they have always been in relationship, negotiating and beholding, themselves and each another. A cliff succumbs to a storm sea, the sea spills over into a rock pool.
Sea seeks to spill over the edge, over the shore, into the cleft of rock, exploring each soft mineral fold. Rock is always falling, dissolving into the sea. They seek to co-mingle, aware of the irrelevance of centuries and seconds - as lovers are.