Category: Uncategorized
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Original Features
I would like to clarify the remark I made in With Love from the Suburbs about our house being eerie, to place it somehow, somewhere. What are the truths in this claim, if any? I could ask my kids. When they have to fetch something from an empty or unlit room, they dash there noisily, turning on…
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Very Base
Recently I’ve been thinking about iterations. I think it makes sense to think about iterations when considering our familial routines and rhythms: doing the same things, using the same objects. I’ve been avoiding spending money on new materials, so after running out of water-based oil paints I’ve just been using up my acrylics. Any acrylics…
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With Love from the Suburbs
I’m making a series of work based on everyday life in the suburbs: observing my kids, our surroundings, and something else too, time passing. I’ve always found the idea of the suburbs fascinating in books and films in their rhythms, aspirations and longings. What you see and hear of your neighbours’ lives brings a blurring…
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Everything Colliding
The first thing I ever sat down and properly painted was a horse. I think I must have been 13. It was quite funny because I didn’t particularly like horses. On a visit to the New Forest as a younger child with my family, I broke away from them and approached a group of horses…
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Body Building
I have been looking recently at the work of Alex Katz and Wilhelm Sasnal. What they appear to have in common is their use of film stills, photographic imagery, and an interest in the influence of illustration and advertising. Music is also present in both conversations. I draw these comparisons from listening to both of…
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Red Shoes
Last night I slept downstairs on the sofa; it is so cool and peaceful down there. I woke in the night to hear running footsteps above me. I thought maybe it was one of the kids, though when I checked, no one was there. It struck me this morning that, despite the initial withdrawal, I…
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The Green Room
Getting off the train at Bournemouth Station, the town strikes me more as a city now when I come home. There is a beehive-like cluster around the ticket gates before we are released into the dark. I nip over to ASDA to get treats: whiskey, beer, gin, chocolate. I have it in my head to…
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Roadkill
Strange childhood memories and how they linger. I keep getting images of roadkill in my head; January tends to have that effect. Not roadkill when it’s completely dead, but when it still has just enough life to drag itself off the road and into a ditch. I wonder what sort of roadkill I would be:…
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A Minor Threat
While sitting with a woman I know this week, I complimented her on her nails which were perfectly shaped and pillar box red. She thanked me and looked at my nails in turn, before averting her eyes and complimenting my runners instead. My hands are dry with paint in the cracks around the nails: I…
NIKKI FOSTER 