I forgot to clean the windows
Acrylic on wood
One of my interests is in exploring the private vs the public in our daily lives.
An exhibition at The Dolls House, Thornbury, Melbourne. Shown here: work in progress.
Here is the story behind this exhibit:
In November 2017, a photographer and stylist flew down from Sydney to shoot the interior of my home for a book. They didn’t know that in anticipation I had studied my Pinterest “Interiors” board daily for two months, bought the latest copy of British Elle Decoration, borrowed countless World of Interiors magazines, and two books by Ilse Crawford. I asked a shop called Modern Times to loan back four paintings that I had consigned them. I purchased overpriced pot plants, gave my Ikea Billy bookshelf away on Gumtree, and replaced it with grungy brown furniture from my studio. I forked out for a drawing by a French artist who lives in London, and a painting by an illustrator who lives in Norfolk, only one of which arrived before the shoot. I hid my ironing table, phone charger, dirty apron, tea towels, underwear, a packet of Panadol, unread super documents, grocery lists, my boyfriend’s rabbit fur moccasins, supersized Listerine and hair gel. I put away my Thank You pump soap and replaced it with an Aesop Resurrection. And I cleaned above the bookshelf. But I forgot to clean the windows.