Please Do Not Climb Original

An old-held belief of mine is that I have ‘made it’ once I have sculptures in my house. This is two-fold: it indicates I have enough empty, unused, and dedicated space simply to hold art, as its only function. It also means I am cultured, considered and intelligent, as I understand three-dimensional art enough to spend a paycheck on it. When we moved into our new house, I thought it was time to designate an open area to house what could be admired but never interacted with. We had the space. We also had 12-month-old twins who were soon to crawl. Once the crawling began and shortly after the walking, I was very humbled by this goal. If you have toddlers, you cannot have sculptures. They will break. Call it teenage angst, but this felt like the perfect moment to make my first sculpture. I’m not sure I can call it an immersive piece of art, but I would like to. From boundaries, creativity can flourish.

The barbed wire motif, featured first on my Flash Sheet artwork, is not my representation of Motherhood. No one thing could be. But that’s just the point, I am grappling with the facets that make up the new position I move into. There is, however, a conforming that must be undertaken. My days are dictated heavily by my children; they are my alarm every morning. It is not that I am trapped, but I am restricted. Some avenues are no longer possible for my venture.

Although more than all this, it’s the physical three-dimensional realisation of this motif that captures my attention. What could be less of a children's object? Something sharp, heavy, dangerous and precariously standing on three legs. Life is not all for our babies; there must be room for sculptures. There must be space for glorious, useless, but visually stimulating centrepieces on our tables. I strive not to tell us that we’re trapped, but rather to convey the very opposite. There may be fences on our stairs, around our pools and in front of cupboards, but we will still have our art. To find the person before the baby proofing. Presenting the impractical beauty that serves no purpose other than to reflect what is still possible. We can have our cake and eat it too. But please, children, do not touch or climb on the artwork.