Blank White Space magazine

I am lucky to have beautiful people in my life. Friends that make me laugh so hard it hurts. Lovers, old and new, check that I got home ok. And people that hold my hand and walk the world. A meeting of minds is treasure for eternity. 

Not many places in the world can make my heart sink at the suggestion of a trip away with a special friend. But Marrakech? Marrakech the hot, hectic maze of madness? Instead of drifting around Stockholm's Nordiska Kompaniet and swimming in the tranquil lakes of Gnesta, we would be in Jemaa el-Fna Square with snakes and beating drums.

It was my second day at The Body Shop when the receptionist called my phone and said, "Anita is in reception for you." From that moment on I knew something wasn’t quite right.

To the beautiful, talented, broken creative people that work at The Body Shop, this piece is dedicated to you…

Overexcited and in love with this city I have just spent 48 hours wide awake pacing my bedroom floor in a small hotel on Calle Del Prado, Madrid. I can sleep for England (not with England) well, maybe one or two of them. It turns out I was high. High on Spanish 500mg migraine tablets. I was even thinking of walking to the Museo Thyssen-Bornemisza at 2.30am, now that's dedication for you!

I couldn't decide whether to title this blog post "The Art of Getting Lost" or "Get Lost." There is a shop on Essex Road in Islington called "Get Stuffed." When I was a junior art director in advertising my copywriter and I used to call them weekly to hear the guy say: "Get Stuffed' when he answered the phone. He had a rising inflection. We giggled, "No, you get stuffed." Childish, I know. It is one of the reasons I thought this blog should be titled "Get Lost."

Ten minutes with Remi Rough.

This morning my 74-year-old Mum drove to London at 6 am to take Oreo my beloved poodle (he needs walking three times a day) she stood in the pouring rain as he ran to her. It's an image I'll never forget. We need him here. He calms us, heals us and makes us laugh. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd fall in love with a poodle.

I'm actually feeling very positive at the moment, as usual. Lockdown has been a strange time but I think we're heading in the right direction now and it makes me happy. I've been very busy during the last few months in my studio and it's been a very productive time for me which always makes me feel better.

I have been enjoying the slightly slower pace of things in lockdown and being able to spend more time with my husband than usual. He's also an artist, so it's been nice to have someone around more to talk through ideas with while I have been busy working on a new series of prints.

I feel very blessed to have my passion for photography in these strange times. I have always enjoyed discovering different places and incredible people through my camera lens. Creativity is one of the best therapies.

I am feeling so excited about all the new collaborations I am doing through my art, to mention a few; with Jules at Blank Space Art amongst other London galleries and I now have an art representative in NYC to create a solo show in a top gallery here.

I used to write about subjects such as buying art drunk and how to curate your Christmas tree. I now find myself wandering the streets of Hackney with my poodle crying thinking about writing this piece. I'm lost, confused and saddened by the world. 

Ha! Most days I feel good, I like our new pace of life at home. I start with tea then yoga and the day unfolds. I walk the dog with my son every day, he's home from university, we get to talk about his life mostly. Then there is the odd day where it all feels awful and I cannot bear the repetition and I want our life back, but it passes, plus I am doing a lot of creative work on Dandy Star.

As I sit down to write this we are still uncertain of what the future holds. One of my dearest friends has lost her Dad and my ex-husband lost his best friend, a teacher aged only 52 years. Among the sadness, we find joy in the simple pleasures such as blue skies, birdsong and cleaning our homes.

My practice has grown out of many places, starting with my upbringing in falling-apart Wolverhampton, my father as an electrician, my early interests in technology and gaming. This grew naturally into an interest in machines, focusing around made up machines originally (like Tilly Matthew’s Air Loom or Gustav Mesmer’s flying machines) but then this gradually grew into a functional interest once I discovered the open source projects based around 3D printing.

It’s a surreal day as my hand block printed fabrics launched with Schumacher in the US today. It’s hugely exciting and something I never imagined, but hard to digest at this unsettling time.

Today I'm feeling ok and optimistic. I have learned that worrying doesn't change much and can be a waste of energy. Instead, I'm trying to focus on pragmatic adjustments I can make to support my own wellbeing and help others during this time. I do have to catch myself if I find that I'm reading scary news/media articles and beginning to spiral though!

For my own habitual need to connect, I do smile and/or say hello to anyone I encounter who will engage with me. I also call at least one person a day to check in with them, whether they are family, neighborhood folks, or friends. Skyping, texting, calling, Zooming, letter writing—whatever it takes to be together—helps tremendously.

My art is urban sketching. I draw everything anything that relates to the city and the people that live in it. My default position is on a street corner with a moleskin and fineliner pen in hand. My studio is a simple desk where I finalise my artwork or if I’m unable to get out and about, create new works using photographic references.

My studio is in my house now. My stuff is encroaching upon all of our living space. I used to have a studio in an old school but it was so cold I used to give up. I swapped from an illustration MA to a Fine Art one at Central St. Martin’s and then did a Fine Art PhD. There’s a snobbery about illustration but I love doing both.