Personal Statement

cropped-841138_460146090707377_2042793986_o.jpgDoor open                                                                                                            February 2015
Fluidity, movement & paradoxical time shifts…The significance in our silent connective language reaching the edges of
a scale, which can only be understood as “feeling”. An enormous range of untouchable, undefinable, unreasonable and
unpredictable terms. We all use a wide range of complex and interconnected tools and abilities of communication, from
body language, to verbal language, to technical language.
The target focus here is an uncontrollable one, it is a “feeling” – a feeling which has not yet met its own definable terms, a
feeling which has no leash or guardian, a feeling which demands time to appear within the cracks, it is not something
which can be shut down or disapproved by nature or the home in which it resides. May we begin with a gentle
unconfirmed outline of what I can only ignorantly suggest or describe.
“A silent murmur of ticking watches, a rising mass of soft burnt crumbling forms begin to push in between your toes like
the sand on a windy beach, a crumbling tremor of lifelines buried beneath your feet rising your objectified being, off the
comfortable foundations in which you reside, “this is the known” she said, you are now entering into the icy, the
chilling , yet the completely exhilarating realm of the unknown , all the ropes you have tied around your limbs, it is now
time to leave them behind – it is time to let go. A string of mass blew around her face covering the view and consuming all
entries of oxygen, in one breath the crumbling of lifelines began to drop sinking into the sand and slowly began to liquefy
into a dark deep yet subsequently beautiful entity, the sand she once knew faulted around her toes, fading into the lifelines
that we once knew.
Turning to the left, what was once a calm smooth surface has now become a raging turmoil, rolling, twisting, and
heading towards the black mirror in which you now stand, with your ropes resting on the glistening reflection of toes, a
residue of ash and dust begins to rise forcing your head to jolt up, all aware of the inevitable danger and threat from the
water to your left. “The terror will never end, dear, so therefore you may tie up your ropes and wait for the waves or join
me for a swim ? You choose, my dear”.
I do not claim to fully understand the subject of my practice, instead I try to use sculptural, visceral mediums to express
my work on a subconscious level. I may find the answer at some point in the future but this is my work now and the story
above is my interpretation of my current stage within my art practice. I can only claim that I “experience” my practice, I
do not perceive to understand what I do not yet know how to digest.
Jodie Lane B/A Hons Fine Art

University of Chester

2012-2015

2012 Fine Art Single Hon's University Of Chester Level 4 Project Fakery Wax in Black acrylic water, ( Spotty) (c) Jodie Lane

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