I always look forward to a pilgrimage to the annual Spring Fair at the NEC in Birmingham. It’s not a journey I take every year but when I go my creative neural transmitters start cracking and firing into life like little cellular level fireworks. If I’ve taken a two/three year gap the cerebral whizz bangs tend to be that bit louder, produce a little more smoke, I’m ready for long hours at the mac translating all these pyrotechnic compounds into artwork.
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Definitions. Tags. Boxes. Categories. We exist in a world obsessed with labels and compartmentalisation, whether in the way we define (or like to be defined) ourselves, the way we define our cultures for example, and in particular the way we like to define ‘what’ we are. The ‘who’ and the ‘what’, in my opinion, have become entangled as one entity and somehow we have become lost in a murky pool of indistinct classification.