. June 2012 .

‘From despair to distraction, insecurity to inspiration. The act of spending time with The Butcher Of Common Sense is the ultimate medicine for the creative block’ Iain Forsyth and Jane Pollard 2012

• October 15, 2012  –

Black-and-white cut-ups, twisted words of hope and shadows, sensual graphics and ominous beasts drip from the walls of the Horse Hospital, the old stable for sick horses chosen to showcase the final work – a book that contains the Funkaus’ space, its layered structure, its mosaic of shared feelings assembled in a surround wall collage – a building-book.

A photocopier has been used and abused to generate, to repeat and transform, to deform and produce montruosities; a scrumptious velvety blackness covers the walls; a woman in the book morphs into doubles of herself, exaggerated, enhanced. Eavesdropping through the other side (of the room, of the page, of herself), she has grown into a spread of sensings, absorbing the walls, the ink, cutting herself into print. Glimpses of ideological leanings here and there.

As I move through the book, I caress a soft, transparent, gelatinous page, empty of words, empty of sense. Raw sensations, and the entanglement of desire with space, touch and sound, all act as wake-up calls.

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