Kirsty Hall  |  Artist & Curator

Many artists approach the world from a place of fear.

‘Am I good enough? What if no one likes my work? Why can’t I sell? I’m rubbish, aren’t I! If I’ve not made it by the time I’m 30, I’m never going to. Picasso worked really hard every single day, what the hell’s wrong with me? If I don’t have lots of shows every year, they’ll all forget about me.’

And so on and so forth…

Photo by Alex E. Proimos, used under a Creative Commons license

I’ve been actively trying to get away from that angst-ridden headspace in recent months. But taking a step back from those ingrained fears feels like stepping off a mountain path in the dark. I don’t know if I’ll fall. Maybe there will be soft mossy grass under my feet or bouncy heather? Or maybe there’s a 50ft drop!

My own first lesson in letting go of these Art Fears is to ignore the temptation to desperately apply for exhibitions in 2010. While applying for exhibitions can certainly be useful and necessary, I’m tired of it. If applying for exhibitions works for you, that’s great. It used to work for me too. However, right now it makes me feel sad, pitiful, powerless and often quite angry. It makes me feel like a beggar outside the temple of art and I’m DONE feeling like that.

Naturally, if things come knocking on my door, I’ll certainly consider them. I do still want exhibitions and other cool opportunities. Nor am I sticking my head in the sand: I’m still visible and active both off and online and I wouldn’t rule out applying for something if it was perfect for me. But I’ve stopped pushing constantly. It’s a difference in attitude.

Somewhat to my surprise, this new approach seems to be working, I’ve been offered several great opportunities lately including the ECCA talk in London last month and I’m taking part in this exhibition later this month. Yet it’s still scary as hell to stop pushing. I want to believe that the Universe will catch me, that I’ll be OK without all that frantic busyness but believing that goes against a lifetime of conditioning.

What are your Art Fears? Can you trust yourself enough to walk away from them? Can you step off a mountain with me? We could hold hands and jump…

Photo by danorbit, used under a Creative Commons license

I’m very sad to report that while I was away in Scotland, the lovely Pepper was nabbed by a fox and she is no more.

It was upsetting but we always knew it was a possibility because our chickens room around the garden most afternoons. Even though we keep an eye on them when they’re out of their run, the urban foxes around here are quite bold & unfortunately they only need to get lucky once.

When I got back, Ginger was clearly very unsettled and lonely. It’s a bad idea to keep chickens singly because they are flock birds and need at least one other hen around. So on Saturday we headed over to our local supplier and scored a new chicken.

Meet Colette.

Kirsty Hall: Colette, February 2010

She’s a beautiful Cou Cou or Cuckoo Maran – the ‘cuckoo/cou cou’ part refers to the speckled silver and black colouring. Marans are originally a French breed, so naturally we had to go with an appropriately French name. She’s a ‘point of lay’, which means that she’s not laying yet but should start in a week or two once her comb grows in.

Kirsty Hall: Colette, February 2010

Because Ginger & Pepper had always been such good friends, I didn’t anticipate any problems introducing Colette. Boy, was that a rookie mistake! Ginger took huge exception to this interloper in her run & was absolutely rotten to poor Colette. She wouldn’t let Colette anywhere near the food & water and defended her territory with quite shocking levels of violence.

After a day of a traumatised Colette refusing to come out of the coop, I admitted defeat & asked on Freecycle for a spare run. Fortunately someone had a small rabbit run that they were planning to take to the dump, so I collected that on Monday evening and ever since Ginger has been spending her days in solitary confinement with a dish of food and water. She is less than happy!

Fortunately this is just a temporary measure – I’ve ordered another set of feeders from ebay & when those arrive, I shall divide the run with bamboo canes during the day. They’ll be near each other but they’ll both be safe and Ginger will have more room. I’m going to carry on separating them during the day until they can get along, which apparently can sometimes take months. I am making progress though, they managed to room around the garden together today without fighting and they’re sleeping together quite happily: the problems just seem to be over food.

Thankfully Colette has been slowly regaining her confidence over the last few days. She’s still jittery though – I let her out of the run today so I could clean out the coop and then she wouldn’t let me anywhere near her and wouldn’t be persuaded back in again. I couldn’t even tempt her back in with food. Fortunately she went back in on her own accord eventually & I was able to shut her in. Ginger is easy to get into the run – she’ll go anywhere for a handful of grain, the wee strumpet!

This is a very quick update because I’m meant to be packing. My son and I are heading up to Scotland this evening to visit my folks.

Firstly, the talk went well on Thursday. I was quite pleased with the Powerpoint that I put together – only having a week to master the software made for a bit of a steep learning curve and a lot of late nights but I managed to put a simple presentation together. The talk itself was very well attended & the organiser said there was a good response to it. I think that I did OK, although my mouth was so dry from nerves that I got through two bottles of water in quick succession! But apparently I didn’t look or sound too nervous, which was good. I had practised at home a lot, which definitely helped. I also watched this long but fantastic video by Garr Reynolds on how to structure Powerpoint & do presentations, which helped immensely. If you’ve got a talk coming up, I thoroughly recommend watching it – it’ll be time well spent.

There was so much that I wanted to put in but had to leave out – 20-30 minutes isn’t nearly long enough to give a good overview of blogging – so I may do some basic intro posts about the subject in the next week or two.

Secondly, I’m taking my laptop up to Scotland with the aim of writing 5 blog posts. I want to take my blogging up to the next level this year and my first priority is increasing the frequency of my blogging. I’ve been blogging ‘hand to mouth’ for far too long. I need to get a good backlog of posts written so that my blogging is not dependant on my dodgy health. So, if you’ve got any burning issues that you’d like to see me address, please let me know and I’ll try to write about it. On a related note, if there’s anything that drives you nuts about my site, please do let me know and I’ll see if it can be fixed.

Lastly, congratulations to Gwen from Murphy Grace Home who won the Gary Vaynerchuk Crush It! giveaway. Thanks to everyone who commented. I wish you could all have won.

Right, I must go and pack, I’m just procrastinating now!

Edited to add:
Oops, I forgot this bit of news. I’ve changed a whole bunch of my photos over to the Creative Commons license. I’m retaining full copyright on my art photos but the more documentary ones are now available to use commercially. I would appreciate a Flickr comment if you do use them but it’s not obligatory.

Awesome sauce – I got a paid speaking gig. Apparently the University Of The Arts in London think I’m some kind of blogging expert. I tried to tell the nice lady on the phone that I wasn’t really but she said lots of lovely things about my articles page and how they were looking for an artist who blogs and I guess I qualify on the later.

Did I mention that the speaking gig is next week and I have to learn Powerpoint between now and next Thursday? And right after I said I was going to be taking things easy too – ha, the Universe does like its little jokes. But I’m certainly not complaining; it’ll be cool and this could be the start of an actual income stream for me. Fortunately I’m feeling significantly better I was than last week. I’ve been doing lots of pacing and listening to my body, so I should be fine.

The event is all booked up but they’re going to be taping it and putting it out as a podcast, I’ll let you know when that comes out.

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Kirsty Hall: Broken Bauble, January 2010

Last October I took Alyson Stanfield’s excellent Blast Off course. This course was a life-changing experience for me – amongst other things, I realised that I need to find more sustainable ways to manage my health & my art before I can develop my career further.

Basically, I’ve been trying to build my house on sand. I’ve been constantly draining myself by doing more than my health allows. Because I’m pig awkward that way.

Last November’s arts trail was a good case in point. I’ve only just been back to take down 3 Score & 10 because I got sick immediately after the trail, then my host fell ill, then there was Christmas & snow. I finally managed to take the work down last Monday but completely exhausted myself in the process and I’ve been in a proper CFS crash ever since. I’m not quite on bed rest but it’s pretty close.

This is clearly absolutely unsustainable; I cannot continue to do shows if it knocks me out for months afterwards.

Now obviously I don’t want to give up doing shows: I love exhibiting my work – it’s one of my favourite parts of being an artist. Since I want to continue to make art and exhibit it, it’s clear to me that I need to do everything in my power to recover from my Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.

That’s a tough call because no one knows what causes it or how to fix it but even if I can’t find a permanent cure, I want to get to a healthier place. So I’ve been working on my pacing and my chronic insomnia. I also took a scary step and in November I joined Slimming World. I’ve lost 18.5 pounds so far and my goal is lose a further 3 stone by Christmas 2010, something I’m well on track to do. Losing weight is unlikely to be a miracle cure – I was unwell before I put on weight – but I know that being overweight can’t be helping. Slimming World is awesome, btw – I won’t bang on about it here but email if you’d like to know more about my experiences with it.

Even though I currently feel like Wile E. Coyote after he’s been squashed flat by an anvil, I’m taking the long view here. This is definitely NOT me giving up, it’s me refocusing and working on the basics. I do still have an art career, I’m just taking the scenic route: there will lots of tea breaks, picnics on the side of the road and photographs of sheep but I’ll get there eventually!

Kirsty Hall: Winter Fog, Jan 2010

As you may have heard, Britain is in the grip of some cold weather and things have ground to a halt because alas, alack, white stuff has fallen from the sky – hey, who knew that could happen in the winter?

Kirsty Hall: Snowy Branch, Jan 2010

The snow has come as quite a relief to me. I’m still recovering from The Virus Of Doom. I’m having a couple of weeks where I deliberately don’t make art but I’ve still not been resting enough, so a couple of enforced snow days are just what I needed.

Of course, my idea of what constitutes resting is somewhat suspect. I didn’t get as much contemplative time as I planned in the last week of 2009, so I’ve spent the couple of days mindmapping, writing lists and drawing colourful diagrams of the coming year.

Oh, and I’ve moved my bedroom around to make room for a dedicated ‘thinking space’ where I can update my sketchbook and work on my visual journal. I’ve been horribly neglecting the former and I’ve been doing the later in bed but it’s bad for my back and there’s always the worry that I’ll get gesso and paint on the sheets.

Although experts say that the bedroom should just be for sleeping, I find that it’s my best thinking space and I also do quite a lot of drawing in there. One of my aims for this year is to ‘meet myself where I am’. In other words, to deal with my actual truth rather than what I think should be true. So instead of denying that I use my bedroom this way and feeling guilty that I don’t go upstairs to my studio instead, I’ve decided to honour what actually is and next week I’m going shopping for a desk, preferably an old rolltop one so that everything can be hidden away when not in use.

Having some introspective time is even easier when the streets are so quiet. There are very few cars about, instead there are giggly people making snow beings, including this rather fabulous creation – in my 42 years on this planet, this is the first time I’ve seen a snow duck!

Kirsty Hall: Snow Duck, Jan 2010

However, not everyone is enjoying the snow – the chickens are distinctly unimpressed…

Hooray, I’ve finally finished the second report from last month’s Front Room art trail. It would have been done sooner but I’ve been down with The Never-Ending Virus Of Doom.

Kirsty Hall: 3 Score & 10, 2005, as shown at Front Room, Nov 2009

As well as doing the Red Thread performance piece, I decided to listen to the voices of reason (aka Dave Devereux and Cat Vincent) and NOT make another sculptural piece at such short notice. Instead, I installed 3 Score & 10, an existing sculpture which was completed in 2005 but which had only been shown twice before.

It was a wise choice. Not only was it a lot less stress but it looked stunning in the space. It was also hugely popular with visitors – sitting at the top of the stairs, I would often hear people exclaiming in wonder as they came up the staircase.

Kirsty Hall: 3 Score & 10, 2005, as shown at Front Room, Nov 2009

3 Score & 10 is part of an ongoing series of work exploring the meaning and measurement of time. It comprises 70 long pieces of string, each containing 365 hand-tied knots. The knots represent the number of days (including leap days) that you would experience if you lived to your biblically allotted 70 years. It contains 25,568 knots and took just under two years to complete.

Kirsty Hall: 3 Score & 10, 2005, as shown at Front Room, Nov 2009

This piece is different every time it’s installed. The first time, it fell neatly to the floor. The second time, it was shown in a tangle. And this third time, people were able to actually walk through the piece, which was very successful as it gave them a different visual experience from every angle.

Kirsty Hall: 3 Score & 10, 2005, as shown at Front Room, Nov 2009

I was fortunate enough to have many intense conversations with visitors about the meaning of time. One thing I noticed was that the majority were fascinated by how long the piece had taken to make and the fact that I’d done all the knotting myself. It confirmed my recent realisation that there is an intangible value in making these sort of pieces myself, even though it’s undoubtedly slow and inefficient.

Kirsty Hall: 3 Score & 10, 2005, as shown at Front Room, Nov 2009

One conversation that really moved me was with a model ship builder who was initially rather sceptical about my work until he suddenly connected it with the intricacy, repetition and length of time it took him to make his models, at which point he completely switched around and ‘got’ what I was doing. It’s these sort of moments that make showing art so worthwhile for me. I just love the generous way people open up to me and share their thoughts and ideas about what my work is about – it’s a huge privilege.

Kirsty Hall: 3 Score & 10, 2005, as shown at Front Room, Nov 2009

Here’s the first of two reports on the work I showed at the Front Room art trail in November.

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The statement I wrote for this piece:
Red Thread
2009
Red thread, white dress, gag, chair, table, plasters, scissors, pincushion, needles.

Red Thread is a brand new piece being performed for the first time at Front Room.

This piece is so new that even I’m not entirely sure what it’s about but part of the inspiration came from Snow White:

“Oh, how I wish that I had a daughter that had skin white as snow, lips red as blood, and hair black as ebony”.

Red thread has great magical significance in many cultures and is often used to make talismans or protective embroidery on clothes. It is usually associated with luck, protection or fertility. There is a particularly beautiful Chinese myth that an invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet – in that case, the entire world must be completely criss-crossed with invisible red lines.

………………………

I don’t usually like photos of myself but I like the intensity of this one.

Kirsty Hall: Red Thread performance, Nov 2009

Wow, I really should have ironed that sheet! But I put it up at the last minute to hide a corridor and didn’t have access to an iron – it’s always these little things that catch you out. Apart from that, my preparation for this show was very good.

Kirsty Hall: Red Thread performance, Nov 2009

Cutting the knotted thread – many visitors noticed that both my pieces contained knots.

Kirsty Hall: Red Thread performance, Nov 2009

I enjoyed the way the thread spread over me like a virus. Someone said it reminded them of mushroom spores.

Kirsty Hall: Red Thread performance, Nov 2009

Doing the arms was tricky – I had to use my teeth to tie the knots.

Kirsty Hall: Red Thread performance, Nov 2009

The little stool that I completely covered in medical plasters – a process that amused my Twitter followers for several days.

Sigh, I love my cute little bird scissors.

Kirsty Hall: Red Thread performance, Nov 2009

………………………

Overall this performance went well, although I discovered fairly quickly that being gagged didn’t work because people on art trails really want to talk to the artists and I needed to be available for that. So I abandoned that part for the duration. That’s one of the joyous things about performances, you can react instantly to things; it’s scary yet freeing. If I ever get the chance to repeat this piece in a more formal setting, I think the gag could still work.

I also managed to persuade a few people to join me in sewing. Even without the gag they were quite reluctant, possibly partly because of fears of blocking a narrow space but also, I think, because it’s a strangely intimate act.

Hi everyone, sorry for being so quiet. Unfortunately I was so exhausted after the Front Room art trail that I collapsed in a heap for several days and then promptly caught a virus (possibly the mild version of Swine Flu) from my son. So I’ve spent most of the last two weeks in bed with a pile of books.

I’m hoping to do a proper art trail update in the next few days but since my muscles still feel like lead, I’m not making any promises.

Oh dear, I’m hopelessly late in getting this out here. But if you’re anywhere close to Bristol, I’m showing in the Front Room art trail this weekend and I’d love to see you.

I’m at 105 Oxford Street, Bristol, BS3 4RL where I’ll be showing some sculpture and premiering a brand new performance piece. It’s the first year that I’ve taken part in the trail, so I’m pretty excited.

The opening is on Friday 20th from 6 – 9pm and then the trail is open from 12 – 6pm on both Saturday 21st and Sunday 22nd November.

Front Room aka The Totterdown Art Trail is the longest running art trail in Bristol. People in Totterdown kindly open their houses up as venues, so not only can you see lots of fantastic local art but you also get to have a good nose at other people’s decorating choices! If you’re in or near Bristol, it’s an excellent day out with lots going on including workshops for kids and a street party on the Saturday. The Front Room website has more details and maps.

Check out the beautiful staircase I’ve got – it’s a very ‘Kirsty’ sort of space, all greys and whites with fantastic light streaming in from a huge skylight on the top landing.

Kirsty Hall: Totterdown Staircase, Sept 2009

Kirsty Hall: Totterdown Staircase, Sept 2009

I’ll be performing in the space where that pile of books is.

Kirsty Hall: Totterdown Staircase, Sept 2009

I’m doing a new performance piece called Red Thread where I’ll be sewing red thread to a white dress whilst I’m wearing it. In a deliberate contrast to my Pin Ritual story-telling performances, I’ll be gagged so that I can only communicate with my hands and eyes and I’ll be encouraging people to sew bits of thread to me. It should be… interesting! It’s a piece that I’ve been working out in my head for a couple of years, so I’m pleased to finally be bringing it to fruition.