Claire Luxton
Image Courtesy of Claire Luxton
“I truly believe, that as you become more confident in your own voice and when you become more honest with yourself, it becomes easier to be honest with sharing what you’re seeing and feeling within yourself.”
– Claire Luxton
During our first conversation, Claire shared that her mother had dubbed her ‘an artist in the womb,’ and as I begin to write this introduction, I find myself imagining Claire as a child. I picture her curious and brave as she roams the woods looking for adventure… patient and introspective as she sits by the sea… turning up treasures Mother Earth delights in hiding for those who take the time to look. Honestly, I do not know if this is exactly how Claire grew up; I should have asked, but we had much to talk about. What I do know is that she holds all of these wonderful traits as an adult: a respect for the environment, a discerning eye, and a desire to explore the light and the shadows—and an understanding that lessons and great art emerge from both.
Let us dive right in to her story and her art…
Bermuda
Claire Luxton
Claire Luxton: So I studied fine art at Goldsmiths, which is University of London. I don’t know if you know Goldsmiths. It’s where, artists such as Damien Hirst & Antony Gormley studied.
Elizabeth Mathis Cheatham: Absolutely. It’s amazing.
CL: Yeah, really good school, and as you do, I graduated with a fine art degree and thought, ‘Ooh! I don’t know how to move forward—what’s my job?’ So I initially worked for a year at an architect’s firm in London Bridge, just a sensible, ‘normal’ job. But I was still deep in my practice on the side because I wanted to be a full-time artist, if that was ever going to be possible. That’s always been the dream—my mum says I was an artist in the womb, as it were. It’s a massive part of my personality and how I look at the world and how I interact with life, so it was something that I really wanted to be doing. I was really lucky—around nine months into the job, I sold a lot of paintings to Qatar and I was like ‘Wow, I can actually do this! I can do this.’ So I just bit the bullet and quit my job and started my practice full-time. That was in 2015, so it’s coming up to my four/five year anniversary now of being self-employed.
I think it’s so interesting how my perspective on creating has changed. You learn so much initially, and I think it’s such an eye-opening experience —I feel like you’re quite vulnerable very early on in terms of navigating the art world, and you question “do people have your best interests at heart?" et cetera… Navigating galleries and things like that. It feels very special now to be in a place where I feel like I’m making for me and my practice and the things that I want to explore instead of feeling pulled in any one direction by other sources. Also, my practice has come full circle, because when I was at university, my work was heavily based in painting and sculpture. My dad taught me to weld as a child, so I was doing lots of welding and really strong physical installations. My practice has always centered on my physicality within the work and how I’m interacting with the work, and how others then physically and emotionally interact with my practice and the space it occupies. But my process always started with photography. I would use photography almost like a sketch, like a visual sketch, to plan out an emotion, a color, a feeling, a space that I wanted to create. After a while, I found my conversation with photography more interesting than what I was then attempting to explore afterwards.
EMC: And now you are also returning to your sculpting. How do you think that break in between when you were mainly just focusing on your photography impacted the way that you interact with your current work?
CL: The interesting thing is—and this has always been my struggle with photography—is that at the end you end up with something two-dimensional. And it’s beautiful, but when I’ve been creating my works, the actual process behind the image is very three-dimensional. I’m building a set, or I have something quite sculptural and physical, that I’ve built, that I’m wearing and interacting with. It’s very performative, figurative. I kind of construct the images in a paint-ly way. I was just so in love with photography that I was like, ‘This is what I want to do.’ But recently, especially over the past six months, I’ve just felt this longing to be using my hands again. Exploring materials and texture and physicality. I think just that breakaway, that ‘time away’ as you say, I think it informed—it’s an ‘absence makes the heart grow fonder’ kind of thing. I really missed working with materials and how they inform so many different facets of my practice. I was really starting to miss that way of creating. Also the metaphorical and abstract elements that you can put into sculptural, three-dimensional pieces that are more of nuances in photography, as opposed to the physical abstraction. So, yes, I think the time away made me miss it, more than anything, I couldn’t wait to reclaim this part of my practice and ‘play.’
The Hour
Claire Luxton
EMC: As you mentioned before, when you originally got into photography, it was as a way to prepare for one of your pieces. Do you find again that you’re using photography, now that you’ve gone back to sculpture, or are you not so…?
CL: Now I see it more as a parallel. In the first instance, I would plan my sculptural pieces through photography. So it would be like a sketch, a photographic sketch, because my brain’s quite cinematic. I would just capture—I would take my camera out and capture little nuances: textures of steel and cracks in the floor and flowers and just little nuances in everyday life, and then I would use those to plan my physical work. Whereas now, I feel I almost want to make work in parallel with the photography—pieces that could almost sit next to each other. You could have the Hope piece behind me and then something quite sculptural that’s informed by it displayed next to it.
EMC: Would you see them as one piece?
CL: At the moment—If I made a piece that was informed by Hope, possibly not, because they were made so far apart from each other. But I would like to start working in a parallel so it would work as a diptych. You would have the two pieces in discussion with each other—so yes, it would work as one piece. They would be reliant on each other. That’s what I’m hoping to start working towards!
EMC: I love that. I can’t wait to see.
CL: I haven’t seen that much, really, in terms of photography and sculpture.
EMC: I think that’ll be wonderful. I had on my list as one of the things to talk about is Hope. You made Hope during COVID—
CL: Actually, slightly before. It was made in 2019 when I was just feeling—I was going through a year of questioning myself.
EMC: I know those years. I’m in one right now.
Hope
Claire Luxton
CL: I think anyone who’s super creative goes through that spell of ‘What is my direction?’ ‘What is my voice?’ All of these things and I was really kind of—I had a lot of doubts. I’m hypercritical of myself; I’m my own worst critic. One day I had an idea for this work—I honestly made the work for myself, for me, in a moment of doubt, and I wrote a poetry piece that goes along with it. It’s called, “Seeds of Doubt.” I made it for myself to inspire me. Then I shared the work, and it blew up. Everyone was re-sharing and commenting on it. You see, I hadn’t released the work publicly yet. Then during COVID, during lockdown, I decided to release it as a larger edition at a lower price point than my usual work because so many people had connected and related to the work. I wanted it to be accessible to as many people as possible.
EMC: Yes.
CL: And from that, it kind of grew during lockdown because it resonated with so many people in terms of a time when they really needed hope from a time that I really needed hope. That was so special, and I made the Instagram filter as well. That’s—I think it’s had half a million views, that filter, and a hundred thousand pictures taken with it.
EMC: Unbelievable.
CL: It came around at the right time for me to share it with everybody. The number of collectors who purchased the work, and everyone has a story—people who bought the work for different reasons have all felt inspired by Hope and needing hope. I feel like it’s really connected people on a different level, which has been so special.
EMC: I think there’s something—I’ll speak for myself. Sometimes when I’ve gone through a period of doubt, there’s been this tendency to think ‘I’m the only one.’ ‘Why does everyone have their act together and I just have no clue?’ At times, I’ve kept quiet and tried to wrestle through challenges alone. But, I find that every time I have the courage to say, ‘This is really hard,’ or, ‘I’m struggling,’or, ‘I don’t know what I’m doing,’ it seems like so many people are like, ‘Yeah. Me too!’ There’s this shared exhale… an ‘Ok—thank goodness we don’t all have to have our act together.’
CL: Yes! I do feel there is a pressure—there’s a pressure across the board for everybody, but I feel there’s a specific pressure, and I don’t know where it’s come from, but on women to have got this checklist done by the time they’re “X” age. I feel like I’m a well-rounded person most of the time. If my fiancé was here, he’d probably be like, ‘No…hahaha!’
EMC: ‘Uh… Are you sure?’
CL: I feel like I’m quite balanced, and I definitely go through periods of being pretty down, and periods of being great, but on the whole I feel I’m fairly balanced. But it’s just—it’s so crazy the amount of doubt that can creep in. Most of the time, my friends will think, ‘Oh, Claire, she’s always got it together.’ But as you say, when you really share with people and become a little bit vulnerable—so many people are going through so much stuff, and I think this checklist, even if you are quite balanced, seems to creep in. I’m 29, turn 30 next year, which I’m very comfortable with. But many women my age that I have spoken to are super uncomfortable about it. The expectation they voice that ‘you should have a baby by this time, you are meant to be married by this time’, all these different things. I think there’s just this pressure, like you’re meant to be at a certain point in your career, you’re meant to have a house and husband and a baby and look young and beautiful.
EMC: All of it.
CL: All of it. Have all of your ducks in a row. It’s amazing that when you share this thought with other people, 95% of the time, they feel the exact same way. I also think you can have that feeling of imposter syndrome where like, ‘At what point am I qualified to do this job?’
EMC: Absolutely. I was young when I joined my first board, and I just remember—I would sit in those board meetings and I’d be like, “When is the day going to come when they’re like, ‘We’ve actually just realized you have nothing to share; we’re gonna need that chair for someone who deserves it.’” It’s so ridiculous to say out loud, but that impostor syndrome is so real. It’s serious. I’m almost 40 now, and I will say that I enjoyed my 30s so much more than my 20s, for what it’s worth. Maybe because I am starting to learn my own worth. The tricky thing about that list you speak of is that even if one does it—checks all the boxes like they are told to do, they may find they’re still not happy. I am realizing that for me life’s really about throwing that list out. Letting go of what people tell us we should do and should want and asking ourselves instead, ‘What brings me joy and fills my soul?’ Then, actually having the courage to pursue what we find when we really listen to the answer. That’s hard sometimes, for sure.
You led into three of my questions, so let me think of which one to go to next. You mentioned the poem you wrote in conjunction with Hope entitled “Seeds of Doubt.” Is that something that you shared as well? Is that something that we could share? Because I know that you’re really passionate about your poetry, too, and I want to talk to you about that a little more.
Hope (Seeds Of Doubt)
they sow the seeds of doubt
night and day
it enters our subconscious
intravenously fed
into our nervous system since birth
we plant it in each other
to boost our own
growth
thinking that stealing our neighbours
sun
will land them in shade
but though doubt spreads its roots in winter
it will never be evergreen
the truth can fertilise hope
and it blooms all year long
claire Luxton
Metamorphosis
Claire Luxton
CL: When I initially share the work—the poem, if it was in a gallery setting, it’d be next to the work. If I’m sharing on Instagram and I’ve written a piece that accompanies an image, I always share it underneath in the caption. For collectors, I have actual limited edition poetry cards, as well as certificates of authenticity that accompany the artwork. If a poem is connected to the work, collectors always get the poem as well. It’s kind of integral to that piece of work. I can definitely send you over—especially that one, and two or three other examples of my poetry which we can include, which would be really lovely. I am—very early stages—but I am working on a book of poetry. I’m torn between the concept of it being purely just a poetry book or an actual archive, but an art book of my photography with accompanying poetry. I’m unsure at the moment. I think it’s one of those things that I need to be more vocal about, because I think not everyone reads the caption. But I’m always sharing my poetry. I think people aren’t as aware of it. They see the image, and it’s easier to engage with the visual. We are visual humans.
EMC: Yes. It’s interesting you shared earlier that your mom said ‘you were an artist in the womb.’ You just came out so incredibly creative. I wonder, as you have started to write more, was it ever a struggle to call yourself a writer? It seems that you owned the art very, very early on—has the writing always felt as much a part of you, or is it something that—I know when I started to write, it took me forever to be able to be like, ‘I’m a writer.’ It just didn’t—I was having imposter syndrome with that as well. Did you ever have a problem with that, or did it always ring true?
CL: No, definitely. I feel like I’ve only really started acknowledging myself as a writer in the past year, probably. I’ve always loved writing. I think I’ve probably always had a—at school, I was very academic. I did well at school, as well as creatively. I was like a geek. I just wanted to do well.
EMC: To learn.
CL: I love to learn. However, I was always pretty rubbish—well, I was always told I was rubbish at spelling.
EMC: Oh, I’m the worst.
CL: Whether that was true or not, it gave me quite a big hangup about writing. It’s weird how these little things from a young age can really be there in the back of the mind. There are some amazing writers who are dyslexic or write in multiple different languages and it seems to only strengthen their practice. But for me, it’s just been a small, tiny hangup about spelling. I never really enjoyed structured writing—I always so much more enjoyed creative writing, as opposed to essays or intellectual writing, in that sense. I always loved writing stories and poetry. The funny thing is that I almost find writing creatively easier than the art, but it always felt more organic to say that I was an artist than a writer, in the sense that I felt like you needed something like, the queen to come give you license, like ‘You are a writer!’
EMC: ‘It’s official now! I give you permission!’
CL: An official decree… Writing is just as creative as art. They’re both an art form in their own right, however, I feel like with art, it’s so much easy to be like, ‘I’m an individual. I’m artistic. I’m an artist.’ Whereas, when you say you’re a writer, people want like, ‘Well, what have you written?’ You have to qualify it. ‘Well, what’s your book?’ Some sort of proof, I guess. I feel a lot more comfortable with it now. I think with the Harper’s Bazaar piece and pushing my poetry, I’m starting to share my writing more and get over the insecurity.
You Give Me Butterflies
Claire Luxton
“I think we’re obsessed with perfection or a certain standard of beauty or expectations in terms of what we should be as a woman or this want and desire for the next thing. I experience it myself; it’s why I’m so interested in it.”
– Claire Luxton
EMC: I think you’re such a beautiful writer. I look forward to reading more of your poetry. It struck me, and maybe it goes both ways, but as your photographs at first led into your sculpture and paintings, it seems like for a while your poetry has been a lead-in into your photographs? Is that right? Like with “Seeds of Doubt” then translating into Hope. Or does it go both ways? Do you sometimes make a piece and then write…?
CL: It definitely goes both ways, actually. Sometimes I’ll have written a piece, and I’ll just instantly get a really strong visual in my mind. When I’m writing, it’ll be very emotive. If anything, when I’m writing poetry, I’ll always get like a color. I know that sounds really silly.
EMC: No, not at all!
CL: …A color in my mind when I’m writing, so often it will start from that point. However, sometimes I will organically just have a vision in terms of a concept that I want to photograph, and then sometimes I’ll almost meditate looking on that picture and write something from that or from whatever I was feeling or exploring. Sometimes, once I’ve shot something and explored it, then a narrative forms from what I’ve explored. I could have learned something in that process that I then want to write about. It definitely works both ways. I think it’s like an occupational hazard being multi-disciplinary! Things just always…
EMC: Go in and out.
CL: They all inform each other.
EMC: It also sounds wonderful, though! To have it coming from all sorts of ways. From Hope—I believe I have my timing right—a great partnership started as well. Do I have my timing right? Will you tell us a little bit about that as well?
CL: Yes. I believe you’re talking about MTArt and Marine, right?
EMC: Yes.
CL: A great kind of partnership formed from such a strange time in the world. Marine and I had briefly been chatting about working together. She’d seen Hope and it really started a conversation between us about shared ideals and continuing to create and be inspired through a difficult time. From that we decided to work with each other, which I was super, super excited about, because Marine and MTArt are just at the forefront of amazing artists and pushing wonderful ideas in terms of collaborations and public art. They have a really strong voice that I felt I could contribute towards. It just felt like a really organic relationship from the start. Initially, all of our chats and conversations were like this—over Zoom! It was a few months of just Zoom, and it’s so funny how you feel like—just having core values that are the same, you can really connect with somebody, with a team. You can still get their energy without meeting in person. Then eventually when we came out of the first lockdown and everything was eased—I mean, we have new restrictions. I don’t know what it’s like in California.
EMC: It goes back and forth.
CL: It’s like 'Okay, everybody go back in!’ When things eased, I went and stayed with Marine for a couple days in her wonderful art house. It was so special to finally meet in person and have nice, long chats about crazy art ideas that we wanted to plan for the future. She’ll tell you that it looked like I was moving in because I just took everything with me. I had an art work for a collector that I was dropping off, and then I also had three bags, my camera, video, my laptop, and then this massive cake—I love cake—so I took this massive cake covered in flowers. It was literally this big.
EMC: Oh my gosh, come visit me! That sounds great.
CL: You have to take a cake! So it’s just been a super exciting time—I think it’s been about four months now—maybe into our fifth month of working together, and it’s been so exciting from the get-go. We’re now working on the Inside Out Festival for Westminster, where my work is going to be projected onto Marble Arch in London.
EMC: Amazing.
CL: I think that’s going to be—we don’t have a set date at the moment because of COVID restrictions, but I think it’s going to be in January sometime, hopefully.
EMC: When you say your work is going to be projected, do you see it as a stationary projection, or will the images be changing? How is that…?
CL: It’s a video piece that I’m working on. It’s called “Metamorphosis.” The first part of my research phase, I was researching butterflies and different botanicals and I went to Stratford-upon-Avon. They have a special butterfly center there, and they gave me after-hours-access. I went in and filmed the butterflies. The funny thing is I love butterflies, and I use them a lot in my work, but I have a slight phobia of butterflies…
EMC: Actually coming at you, live ones.
CL: Some of them are this big. They’re absolutely massive, and I’m there with my camera. It sort of gave me shivers. I was like, ‘It’s fine! It’s just a butterfly!’ They’re absolutely stunning— but the dynamic kind of challenges me. I found that really exciting. The video is going to be around three minutes long, and it’s going to be played on a loop every evening, from sunset to midnight.
EMC: How nice.
CL: The whole video is a site-specific work for Marble Arch. It’s going to be organic, evolving and changing, so the butterflies will be moving and morphing into different shapes and forms, along with different botanicals and also shots of woodland and the ocean. It’s a really earthy piece, constantly moving and changing. It’s going to be really exciting. That’s the whole project that Marine and MTArt have helped create. It’s pure magic.
Why So Sad
Claire Luxton
EMC: That’s so exciting. I can’t wait to see it. Is this your first—have you done a lot of video work or was this…?
CL: In terms of actual work—in this format, yes. But I’ve made videos a lot in the past; they’re more experimental, process videos. When I was doing a lot of painting, I used to make these abstract videos of resin and me painting, so it was a lot more poetic process videos. I still make videos now, documenting my life and processes as an artist. In terms of an organic, actual video art piece, this is kind of a newer genre, I would say. Combining my sculptural eye with my photography and turning it into a video.
EMC: That’s amazing. What has been one of the biggest lessons working on this for you?
CL: Two elements, really. It’s really interesting in terms of working with obviously any art work that’s going to be a public art piece in the public eye. It’s really interesting how—I guess you have boundaries that you have to kind of work towards. Actually, sometimes a constraint can be helpful because you need to problem-solve. When you have no constraints, sometimes it’s too much.
EMC: So out there.
CL: You have no boundaries, so where do you put yourself? It’s been really interesting also learning about projection mapping, because I never worked projection mapping before or anything like that. Super high-powered projectors are needed, and everything has to be mapped to the structure. Otherwise, if you can imagine, if you were just projecting at any building—if you were projecting at Marble Arch, and it was just a block rectangle, it would still project on everything else. It wouldn’t project just on the physical shape. So it’s been interesting learning about that. I think also my biggest and most exciting point—but also learning curve—has been taking into context such a powerful structure with such a rich history…what I can take from that and also what I can bring to that in terms of my art work. Marble Arch is right on the edge of Hyde Park, and the structure was originally made as a celebration. So I wanted it to celebrate the nature within the park, but also bring that onto the architecture itself. It’s been interesting researching the history of the Arch and then combining its location, its meaning with what I’m interested in exploring and bringing to the public.
EMC: That’s going to be amazing. That’s super exciting. I love that. As you look into the new year—I can’t believe we’re so close to 2021, but—
CL: I think a lot of people are relieved, but I’m just trying to make the most of this year, you know.
EMC: I think that is a really smart approach. There is something exciting, though, that you are working on for the new year. The details are still forming, but wanna kind of give us a sneak peek?
CL: In the past—on my last solo exhibition Botanica, I worked with the wonderful McQueens. They are obviously an amazing brand, and they have the whole floristry department and team, and we’re coming back for a second collaboration in the new year, which I’m really thrilled about. It’s going to be a very in-depth photography series. Also, kind of a small documentary, behind-the-scenes as well of the whole creative process.
EMC: Wonderful.
CL: Because we’re going quite ambitious with the floristry and the photography, I thought it would be such a shame not to document the process—I always regretted not documenting how I made Botanica, so this time I really wanted to show how much sculpting—going back to my love of sculpture and process, exploring natural elements with the flowers and how flowers are a whole different medium in itself. Very exciting collaboration with McQueen in January.
EMC: Good. Well, please keep us posted, and I’ll look forward to seeing the video and whatnot. If there’s snippets that we can share, we would love to.
CL: Absolutely. I will try to document everything.
EMC: Before we end our chat, there are two things from your artist statement that I just loved. I’ll break them apart because they are different ideas, but I’d love for you to talk to both of them. One thing is, and I thought it was so beautiful, but you said, “Art has always been so much more than just a picture to me. It’s a voice; a universal language that allows us to communicate on a uniquely emotional, visual, and physical level.” I love that. Will you just speak to that a little more?
CL: I think that's the old adage of, ‘a picture paints a thousand words.’ It’s a bit like poetry, but even higher than that for me. Sometimes there’s something that words and gestures and everything in the world just can’t evoke the same way a piece of artwork can. The way it can stimulate people in such unique ways depending on who the audience is and how it can just draw on so many different connotations; there’s just so many different levels that people can explore and relate to. Sometimes it’s just a sound or a scent or a color or a gesture in the paint or just something that can be said that words just can’t. I always remember exploring at university this idea of the sublime, and how it’s hard to be awed or experience the sublime now because we’re so bombarded by everything—You go back a couple hundred years and you look at certain famous paintings, and you can imagine at the time, how that would’ve looked to fresh eyes who hadn’t been exposed to everything we’ve been exposed to today, and how it might’ve made the person feel at the time. So I’ve always been interested in still creating that bubble of whatever it is—joy, despair, love of life, whatever emotion or memory that you can speak to that isn’t lingual. You can take a painting anywhere, and you don’t have to speak the same language. You don’t have to come from the same culture, but people are probably going to have some sort of reaction to it, whether positive or negative. It’s going to evoke something from people.
EMC: I’m being reminded of when we spoke last time and we were talking—I asked if you looked at a lot of your photography as self-portraiture because you are so often in them. You said something like, ‘I don’t look at it so much as a picture of me but more of an emotion that I’m embodying.’ I wondered at what stage of the artistic process do you start to embody the emotion that you’re trying to convey? It’s like when actors are preparing for something. Some of them just go all in the whole time. When they’re filming, they go home and they’re still in character. Where do you go into that? Where do you have the distance, and where is it just right there for you?
Spiritus No. 2
Claire Luxton
CL: I always get very involved. I’m not necessarily always “in character” per se, but when I’m working on something, my brain is super occupied by that thought or that concept or that emotion, so it’ll be very prevalent in my mind a lot of the time. Then I really allow myself to feel—when I’ve got everything set up and I’m in front of the camera, it just evolves. Setting up a whole set takes a lot of time because I’m doing everything myself. One part of my brain is dedicated to a technical aspect I’m focusing on. I spend a good couple hours just playing with lighting, exposure, set, backdrop, props, all of those kind of things. But when all of that is good and ready, I almost allow myself to exhale into whatever it is that I'm wanting to explore or feel or navigate. I’ll spend just hours isolated with the camera until it’s right. Until I’m there, a thousand pictures later, ‘Oh, that one! That’s the one!’
EMC: I love so much of your work, and there is one photograph in particular I could just stare at for days. It’s such a beautiful piece. It’s of you and you’re—it feels like you’re under water or under ice, maybe. There’s this barrier between you and the viewer. The water is kind of black and there are flowers, and you’re right up at the surface. Can you tell me a little more about that piece? Selfishly, I just want to know more.
CL: It’s such a shame. Literally a couple weeks ago, I had that piece up there.
EMC: Oh, did you?!
CL: So, that’s part of my Botanica collection that was released. Talking about exhales, the whole Botanica collection was a path through life. This is how I saw the collection. The black piece was—there were two black pieces, and they were right at the very end. In that work, I used a lot of decaying flowers or flowers that were at the end of their life cycle. So I shot the collection through Perspex; that’s the barrier. It was load-bearing Perspex, that could hold my weight.
I was on top of the Perspex, and my camera was on the floor, underneath shooting upwards. I arranged all of the flowers; I was using different pigments and inks mixed in with water. Then I would lay underneath to check everything was arranged properly, and I would then get on top and be in amongst. This is where, talking about an emotion and a feeling, I was experiencing this idea of a last breath, basically. The whole process was extremely uncomfortable; I was super bruised and battered afterwards. From start to finish, it was difficult and emotional, and I allowed myself to feel that and embrace that whilst I was creating the art work. It was real—because I’m literally pressed up against it—it was difficult to breathe, and I just kind of shut my eyes and allowed myself to capture the water drop from my breath and the vapor. It was a really emotional piece to make and really—it was kind of performative as well. I just allowed myself to feel that moment.
EMC: Well, it was breathtaking. Literally, I guess lol. I have a million questions, but I will not keep you that long. So one last topic. I read your artist statement so many times—it is beautifully written. The other quote which really captivated me was: “I am drawn to the concept of truth, and how we weave beautiful lies around our lives. I constantly seek to tap into those parts of myself and others that nobody sees, to unhinge that part of our awareness that keeps us all together, that serenity that we seek to display to the world, covering our dark fragility and desires.” I think part of that speaks to what we were talking about earlier in our conversation!
CL: A hundred percent, it naturally evolves from what we were speaking about earlier. I just think it’s so weird, as I’ve gotten older, I’ve found it really hard. I’ve become more honest as a person. I know it sounds really strange but I can’t abide lying—I’m a really empathetic person, and I’ve always been naturally able to tell when someone’s lying to me, or not being honest or being quite passive or not being straight up. I just feel like we consistently tweak our masks—“all the world’s a stage,” to quote Shakespeare. I feel we do—there’s very few people we fully just let the full guard down for, and I find it so interesting—I just found the more I have been able to open up with myself and be really truthful and honest with myself—like ‘This is how I’m feeling. This is why I’m feeling that way.’ It’s okay to not be having a good day, to not be ‘on’ all the time. It’s almost like the secret lives of other people that we have no idea about. These things that go on that people just never share, never speak about, but probably loads of other people are doing the exact same thing. I feel like I’m definitely a perfectionist, and there’s this thing within society where I think we’re obsessed with perfection or a certain standard of beauty or expectations in terms of what we should be as a woman or this want and desire for the next thing. I experience it myself; it’s why I’m so interested in it. Where does it come from? Is it innate? Is it completely socially constructed? Is it a throwback to fight or flight? Where does this thing come from where we feel the need to disguise any kind of imperfection or any kind of what might be deemed as a negativity? I just really like tapping into that in myself and exploring that emotion and what other people might be going through.
Image Courtesy of Claire Luxton
EMC: You know, I’m reminded of two things as you say that. One, I had a friend who used to say, ‘Stop comparing your insides to other people’s outsides.’ This idea that—I look to somebody else and think, ‘they’re not struggling,’ and that’s just not true. We all have our own struggles. The other thing, I was actually having this conversation just yesterday, but I was saying that I’ve been in recovery for a long time and for the first fifteen years, I felt like it was all about trying to ‘fix’ myself. In the last four years or so, it’s instead been about trying to find the parts of myself that I cast off as wrong or unattractive or needy, etc., and inviting them back in. It’s just been such a big shift for me, doing that. I wonder—I was really interested in your use of the word “lies” because I started thinking about… ‘Where did they come from?’ You were saying that, too. ‘Why do we feel that need to lie?’ I think so much is partially because we’re still learning who we are, and then we’re afraid what we’re finding isn’t going to be acceptable, so we’ll modify it.
CL: I notice people doing all the time. Even just really small lies for no concrete reason other than that it’s just a bit more polished. Say, for example, you were fifteen minutes late. Instead of just being like, ‘I didn’t have my shit together this morning, so I’m fifteen minutes late.’ It’ll be like, ‘Oh, we couldn’t find the car key,’ or, ‘The traffic was bad.’ It’s just a small lie; it’s not hurting anybody—but it’s still not the truth. The truth is ‘I got up late,’ or ‘I took extra long getting ready’ or ‘I didn’t know if I wanted to come.’ It’s like it’s easier to say something else. It’s just a small thing; then people do it on a much larger scale in their lives. They’ll shave twenty pounds off their weight or add three centimeters to their height, or say they went on a holiday for an extra week. Just silly little things to make things sound better. I don’t know why we’re doing it, or who we’re doing it for. We know the truth, and I think it’s only damaging to ourselves to feel the truth isn’t enough. I truly believe, that as you become more confident in your own voice and when you become more honest with yourself, it becomes easier to be honest with sharing what you’re seeing and feeling within yourself. I’m really drawn to that at the moment.