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In the dark of Night

I wanted to delve a little deeper in to each segment of the work for my solo show.. Night is where it started, that's is where I’ll begin now.


Night is something of a romantic concept that you are very familiar with as a teen. Then it gradually recedes in to the background as something you sleep through, until you reach a point in life where sleep is by no means guaranteed ( I’m saying you, here, but I hope you get I mean me)




But it’s a thing that I’ve become aware of, particularly talking to female friends of the middle aged persuasion, that 3 am is no longer the preserves of a wild night out. Instead, it’s when you wake, full bladdered, nip to the loo or try and ignore it, and fervently wish you’ll get back to sleep. Sometimes, mebbe, sometimes naw.

Given that, it’s a time of day I can learn to love or I can hate.. either way, I’m going to be seeing a lot more of it. I’m no good at lying still. I can do it for 30 minutes, an hour tops. Then I have to get up, make a coffee, sit outside and feel the night air. Look with my short sighted eyes at the stars. Hear the waves which sometimes are a distant roar, sometimes sound like they are crashing at the bottom of the garden. Listen to the odd fox, the occasional owl.



It’s still as magical as it was, 14 years old, sneaking out my bedroom window to go for barefoot walks through the small town we lived in, desperate for adventure, for difference, for change. (Pity my poor parents).

It’s illicit, it’s thrilling, and it’s the height of solitude. And solitude, for me at least, so often means solace. The moments when it’s just you and the abyss… there’s a calm in that. A beauty. And while I may be grown up enough to regret ahead of time the tiredness that will dog me through the next day, I can never entirely regret the oneness, the stillness of sitting, just sitting, alone in the night.