Aly Fryer
This is an artwork I created while vacating my second art studio.
The first was not a space that I felt productive in and was actually a converted urinal, the worst studio in the building but I was desperate for space to CREATE SOMETHING OF MY OWN.
My oldest and closest friend rescued and funded me through tough times. Those times were mentally and financially tough. I am forever grateful to her. But it was not meant to be.
‘Not meant to be’ a flippant yet poignant indicator of a parallel universe for the mother within me. The sapping, draining of energy within the urinal space is an analogy of the sapping, draining emotions of childlessness.
Colortron is a misspelling of Colourtron and as in my spoken word and my art I refuse to correct mistakes.
Is that because the NHS did not correct their mistake?
No.
It’s because they never ever could; and so I live my life with their mistake and somehow CHOOSE to leave mistakes in my work.
I did not CHOOSE to be childless.
It was out of my CONTROL.
I RECLAIM CONTROL by CHOOSING to leave mistakes; they are painful and haunting but genuine and authentic, like my emotions.
Colortron was a deconstruction of my manekin ‘Audrey’.
As I vacated my second art studio, not by CHOICE, I removed Audrey’s limbs. Unconsciously I realise now as I scribe, that rendered Audrey helpless. Another analogy to peruse and grapple with.
Definitive primary colours called for abstract strokes and Audrey was not conceived in a frenzy but out of determination to make one last CREATION OF MY OWN in yet another forced circumstance.
A friend recognised an umbilical chord.
I then clearly saw the raw emotion in what I had unconsciously CREATED from Audrey and Colortron was born.
Without realising I then saw the deep purple umbilical chord wrapped around her neck; a crippling stifling noose, cutting blood supply. The raw red ACHING red womb was full of life giving blood, yet also symbolised the EMPTY HOLE.
The powerful significance of Audrey’s deconstruction and destructive reconstruction symbolises the mother that perpetually ACHES within me.
This image does not show the streaming paint from Audrey’s eyes but it does highlight ACHING nipples on breasts.
Therein is the mother.
THE ARCHIVE.
