Now, looking at the the machines again, I much prefer
the factory to the later ones. This is partly because the transition is my
loss of childhood innocence. But also the later machines are abstract,
they aren’t about anything except their motion and this now seems boring
to me. It took me nearly 20 years to completely recover from the influence
of fine art – the Chiropodist (1986) was particularly liberating in this
respect.
Also lurking in the loft were some of my mums
paintings. She took up art when I was a child. I had completely forgotten
that she had also been influenced by abstract art at the same time, I
guess we both egged each other on. She
also abandoned it and became a highly skilled landscape etcher. Now aged
88, she is still selling lots of her prints to Kew Gardens.
It’s always hard to know what to do with my old
machines. The fun is making them and I nearly threw away everything some
years ago. But my wife persuaded me not to so I built a small outbuilding
(8ft x 8ft x 4ft) as my ‘history’ shed. Now, as long as my past
doesn’t exceed this volume, it seems under control.
But it has been full for a while so I had assumed that I would
throw away these machines after I’d photographed them. The next day I
relented. The factory was more interesting than several other things in
the history shed so, after a night outside in the rain, it got a last
minute reprieve. The others are now landfill.
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