As craft furniture becomes swallowed by its' own self importance I can't help but recall why I left that studio in Wiltshire. As vanity, the like of which I have not seen before or since, from old stalwart and novices alike crushed the love I heald for my chosen profession, a wise head was not there. Just an encouragment of pomposity. I watched as desperatly young makers yearned for attention like spoilt children, snatching any drop of attention cast thier way. I had thought there was a purity, a lack of selfishness yet I learned and saw the twisted souls, who, when the approval passed lost all sense of self. They ceased to exist if not noticed.
I recall the Jerwood Prize for Furniture 1999 and those who seriously thought they may be considered, oblivious to where the eye of culture looked, and the sense of loss they felt having thier offerings rejected.
My opinions of others motives were changed and I sought solace across the border. Should not your belief hold strong regardless of small bodies who sit casting judgement on things they barely know? and should anyone, seriously care? I thought not and retreated. Friendships lay soiled and broken by this hunger for attention. I shall never forget being told by who I thought of as friend that they may not be able to talk to me because of whom they sought to please. Deep was my saddness and sore is my respect.
Your friends should never be dropped for the sake of your career. Where would you sleep when cast adrift and the lights and glitter have blown away? Alone is the answer, alone.
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