‘Flutterby’ came out at the other end of some whirlwind response to Suze Adams’ ‘White Space’ projection, the flying pijamas on the washing line – moving, lifting, sinking – an image in motion, as if in real time. It had barely been within my field of vision during the installing of ‘Highrise’ but it somehow got hold of me and wouldn’t let go anymore. It was a bit like catching a cold: getting up the following morning it was still there, somewhere in my mind, doing something . A sense of unease, restlessness stirred up inside. Once I knew it was filmed on the Isle of Mull I knew the cold was here to stay for the weekend . ‘Biography’ had caught up with me and all other possible ideas I had had for the workshop.
I had already done a very personal piece of work involving stacks of letters witten by my late husband earlier in the year and didn’t think I was prepared for another one so soon. But I was in the grip of that white space whirlwind tossing up memories, swinging back and forth, from Mull, where and when I first met him all the way to the hospital where I saw him take his last breath twenty years later.
Wind and air do that: connect across time and space, span across all that is life.
As I look at the wispy ‘butterfly’ pencil writing on the walls I wonder about the nature of unseen tornadoes.