In an increasingly materialistic world I'm not sure whether my love of found objects and appreciation of the beauty of rubbish (I'm actually mentioned in an on-line dictionary under detritus – nice!) is a good or bad thing. On the one hand most of the materials that I work with don't cost me anything but on the other I'm a compulsive hoarded so tend to fill my live and work spaces to capacity.
Most hoarders justify their activities with phrases like 'but I'll definitely use it' or 'as soon as I throw it away you just know that I'll need it the next day'. And it's true – I do use a lot of the stuff I collect but some individual items have been known to sit around for decades before they graduate to the 'status' of art material. One such item is a pebble which I've just used in a mini sculpture and belated birthday present for fellow artist Remi Rough.
I like the idea of taking everyday bits of rubbish or found objects, removing them from their original environments and displaying them in a way that elevates them (in this piece, literally) to something akin to that of an artefact. This is more evident in my earlier sculpture, The City, which with its multiple glass fronted boxes looks more like a mobile Cabinets of Curiosity.
But getting back to the pebble - I was trying to remember where I originally picked it up and how long I've had it for. Although all I could recall was that it's been sitting on my book shelf for as long as I can remember and has travelled with me as I moved home for at least the last twelve moves. Then I came across this, one of my earliest prints made some time in the early 90's and realised that it was the same pebble.