Yorkshire Sculpture Park: the citizen’s park that never was The following views are about an insider, albeit of no particular significance to the organisation, who wasn’t disgruntled, but who lamented and mused from the gallery benches over what this place could have been. I spoke recently to a friend about how travelling by a cityContinue reading “YSP: a requiem for a dream”
Category Archives: Writing
Near desert…
Langsett remains weird. An intrusion of the outside. Dream-like, in that all our dreams are breached by that which shouldn’t be there. Nor should I… be here, ‘down there’. I’m lost. That horizon line that greats you as you ascend the first set of hills, with its weirdly rhythmical monotony, calls you forward… Yet itContinue reading “Near desert…”
Only in absence
During the course of my life I’ve realised that I can only reach out and embrace something’s presence/my presence in its total absence. An inability to be at ease with the living, to do what the living do, as led me to be a living ghost, who in turn chases other ghosts. I’ve developed aContinue reading “Only in absence”
Living with self-hatred: 2024
The fact that I feel pressed to make disclaimers about what I do or don’t say on my own blog already reveals the presence of a dominant inner critic. It thinks it is protecting me from damaging any reputation I may give off for having artistic ‘professionalism’. And indeed I feel I must impress theContinue reading “Living with self-hatred: 2024”
Turning 40 (a list of things I’m most proud about from the last 20 years)
I’m 40 years old in roughly 20 days. When it comes to a life lived through formalities, and rites of passage, there has been no life to speak of. Forgive me if this sounds like wallowing, it’s because Xmas time is really genuinely hard at the best of times. Seeing photos of couples, or familiesContinue reading “Turning 40 (a list of things I’m most proud about from the last 20 years)”
Edging out to the vanishing point
The late John Berger suggested that the body of work of an artist could only be completed by death. When talking about the 20th century artist Giacometti he suggested the artist’s ” …act of looking was like a form of prayer …a way of approaching but never being able to grasp an absolute”. Giacometti’s sculptures,Continue reading “Edging out to the vanishing point”
Fellow comrades – meaning me
Look after yourself over the next 3 weeks of Xmas Grim. In this post-covid quagmire of futureless hyperbole, ones inner void can be tested to the limit as the volume is set to 12, as we realise the smell of ammonia will never lead to its necessary post-mortem, but to the next zombie goosestep toContinue reading “Fellow comrades – meaning me”
A Lifetime’s Worth of Staring at Train Announcement Boards
[Edited post originally from New Years’ 2016] A morning I had a dream last night. I can’t even remember what it was about, but to be honest the fact I know I had a dream is rare enough. Once more, from I how felt upon waking, it wasn’t a bad dream, it was a dreamContinue reading “A Lifetime’s Worth of Staring at Train Announcement Boards”
The failure of ‘the politicisation of mental health’
I admit it surprised me recently to hear Keir Starmer speak about the ‘collective trauma’ of the recent decade, and of a society of people who no longer feel like they have a future’. I know that nothing coming from the mouth piece for a mere electioneering PR exercise should surprise me. But I wasn’tContinue reading “The failure of ‘the politicisation of mental health’”
A life through walking
Neither the crucial role walking has had in my adult life, nor my acute psychogeographical knowledge of a certain clump of land in Northern England are things I instantly associate with pride and personal qualities. None of my walking has ever required metal sticks, flasks or waterproofs, the kind of walking you organise beforehand, norContinue reading “A life through walking”
John B Ledger 