I live in a house built in 1957. I have two spaces to work in, both add-ons to the original structure: a chilly and very narrow lean-to on the outside of the house, disguised as part of the inside by the addition of plasterboard, and a sunny ‘sun room’ (when there is any sun). Both are full of maddening piles of stuff and I have to rely on a kind of mystic sixth sense to find anything.
Where do you normally get your things?
I like to use found images, old postcards, ‘captures’ from television as the starting point for paintings. My favourite place to get things is off the ground – I love strange finds. I also like charity shops and, inevitably, eBay. Car boot sales used to be good hunting grounds but seem to have lost their spirit of late. I like to collect worn bits of plastic off beaches and I salvage anything with grids of holes in it.
My prize possession is a Victorian table inlaid with shards of broken pottery that belonged to my great-aunt. I asked my mother to, very discreetly and only if the time seemed right, ask the aunt whether she might consider leaving the table to me in her will as I loved it so much. Word came back the next day that it was “mine for £50”, so now it is.