Wednesday, November 29, 2006

Writing by Thomas Tuke

After aggravating delays i finally have found the time to upload my writing for this topic. I must also make it a goal to print this stuff for assessment (same goes for you guys)

I still need to type up my manifesto so that can wait for a bit. First thing's first, the walk writing.


“Are you up for a little quest Tukey?”

When packing my bags I make a vague attempt of intimidating a line in Shrek 2. Aloud. In a toilet in Tower Hill. Second floor.
Voice acting sure as hell has never been my thing, even if the odd individual or two tell me otherwise. Nothing that I’ve particularly cared about to be honest.
The day was now in the evening. Just over 6:30pm to be exact, and those slave drivers in critical studies had given me a job. “Go for a walk” they say. “Don’t document it with drawings and photos, but come back and write about it.” Suffice to say it was a subject that needed contemplating.
I fill up the drinking bottle for starters. This one was a bit smaller than the last one that I had to throw away. Travelling can be thirsty work, especially by my feats.
Surprisingly I was all too confident that night, seeing that I had to hand in (or complete rather) my minute long movie for time-based movie. No time to explain there though.
Previously I had to run back all the way from central house after dropping off my animation folder and paint pad in a locker. I met Jay and was-his-name on the way promising that my video will rock like it always does. By the way if the whereabouts of my locker goes outside this Uni I would be liable to hurt you. Thought that I get that out of the way right now.
In any case I get back my earphones. No way I’m trudging round jolly London without some music pumping in my ears.
I double-check I have everything. I’m not the sort who likes forgetting things you see. Everything has to be accounted for. Makes life a hell of a lot simpler.
Ok all set trump down the stairs, walking down the stairs. Walking out of the door to get a good intake of that fresh night air. I gaze up at the caliginous clouds that smother the night sky and wonder how this curious chapter will unfold. Where was I going to go I wonder? What will become of this trip? I’ll Decide that when I come to it.
My hand shuffles to the interior pockets. What music shall I listen to on my minidisk? Kinda feeling in a set upbeat mood so I’ll settle with the Mugen soundtrack for now.
Alrighty then off I go.

2 hours and about a week later.

So where did I go exactly? From Tower hill I trotted along the riverbank towards London Bridge (or Tower of London they seem to have them both mixed up) before walked up passed Aldgate. While I was at it I decided to go past the Gherkin and then straight into Liverpool Street. Part of my intention was to make my way to that fancy place near a working area with glowing pads that light up during night time periods but alas that place was nowhere to be seen. Should be noted that I’m rarely the sort of guy that recognises roads and areas by name, relying more on what I see, hear, feel, taste or smell for that matter.
My search there took me in between some of the buildings near Liverpool Street station and up all the way to Old Street (!). My trip back from there was through a somewhat dodgy neighbourhood taking me to Monument area although by this point it could have well been Moorgate. I couldn’t really tell anymore since I was strangely lost, a bit weird for me to be that. But I used by noodle after few twists and turns and ended up in Farringdon, Russell Square and then Kings Cross St. Pancras. So much thrills, rushes, excitement and gulps of recycled mineral water. I was sure to drink water regularly just so that you know.
I was to go further but time was up so sadly my journey ended there seeing I needed to get home. This was annoying seeing it usually doesn’t take me long to travel London by foot I can easily get to Embankment from Aldgate East in just under 40 minutes. So it was extra annoying that I do this sort of thing on a fairly regular basis depending on whether I’m in the mood or whenever I feel Ken Livingston can shove his Oyster cards up his rectum. This one had taken up 2 hours and I wasn’t able to make my way south from Euston to the main town and do shopping but it was quite late anyway by this time so maybe that was an awry idea. Plenty of time to do that in the good few weeks afterwards.
The train ride home wasn’t particularly interesting even though, after taking the Victoria line to Victoria station I had to switch from a Victoria train at Clapham Junction to a Waterloo train at the same stop so I generally ended up taking a different route home due to me now willing to wait another half hour. Oh and yes I was happy to find all my belongings were still intact when I got back.
Are there any thoughts from this weary traveller then? It was a very mesmerizing I just say. Whether it was the night sky or the somewhat scifi\cyberpunk-esque modern buildings I went passed the was that somewhat wild drive of going out there for adventure. All those fancy buildings and neon lights and nighty moodily atmosphere and techno music struck quite the cord. Even the constructions sites and alleyways had nice qualities (though I wasn’t stupid enough to venture inside them). The trip also included this weird shopping area just near Russell square tube station that seemed like something of a reward after all that walking and running.
What did the trip mean for me artistically? Depends how you mean it. The trip gave me things to think about and ideas to go ahead with. Sadly none of these are for anything Uni related so this has been a big, giant arse-fuck waste of everyone’s time. Bah-ZING!
As of this moment of writing I can’t bothered with techno and have decided to have Gwar playing in the background. A fistful of teeth for you.

For pity's sake i avoided showing the 100 and 50.

10 words that describe my practise

1 word that describes my practise

Saturday, November 25, 2006

Fiona Hunter-Boyd : Manifesto


Sir Issac Newton wrote: "If I have seen further than is because I stand on the shoulder's of giants" With this quotation in mind I am writing a few words of where I think
I stand.

1. Art for me is a privilege in which I can indulge

2. My work is not intended to be a political statement but at times it may reveal where I stand
when my idea of right and wrong are questioned. Especially, I will not ignore others who's
need is greater than my own.

3. Art will not be a career for me in the usual sense. My late entrance to the art-world has
allowed me to consider art not as a life's-work but rather as a "happy-happening" in my

4. I do not feel burdened with a "duty" to art or to the public.

5. I will be the best artist I can be. I have promised myself this!

6. I will try to be "moral" in my art and will avoid what I consider to be profane.

7. I will be involved in the art-world as much as possible and attempt to keep up-to-

8. I will try to remain true to myself and to life and to explain my art "if I can",when the
occasion arises, and if necessary!!

9. I will endeavour to learn from the artists of the past and present...even if I don't
like it!

10. I will have respect for the work of other artists (even if I don't like it).

These words are my words and my views and I stand by the "Right" to have these
ideas and values...even if "You" don't like it!!

Fiona Hunter-Boyd

Fiona Hunter-Boyd : Words To Describe My Art

Words To Describe My Art

x1 word


Fiona Hunter-Boyd :Words That Describe My Art

x10 Words


Fiona Hunter-Boyd : "The Cat-Walk"

" The Cat Walk"

I have an adorable 14 year old cat who's name is Yang
Yang is a very special cat because he goes out for walks
on a collar and lead (how many cats do you know who can
do this?).
I decided to record one of our typical walks to our local garden.
The garden is situated across the Terrace from our home.

23rd. October,06

( I used a dictaphone to record the details of our walk from start to finish)

"Yang would you like to go to the garden for a walk?" Yang looks up at me and seems interested.
How do I know this? Perhaps, it is the way he looks at me and moves his eyes in the direction of the collar and lead. Hmmm....I think to myself, he seems all fit and frisky...I glance down at Yang again to see if I can see a sign of his approval. As I bend down to fix on Yang's collar and lead he dashes in the direction of the sofa and just in the nick of time I have my hands around his body.
"Come on Yang! don't be a silly boy!" Yang glances at me and lets out a very positive meow...some slight dissent circles the air..."O.K. Yang let's get your collar on"...and after a few fumbles we are all set.

"O.K. let's go"...we head for the door...Yang is in my arms...I thought it wise to carry him until we arrive outside the house...will give him time to gather up his confidence to face the outside world.
We arrive outside the main entrance and step into the Terrace. Yang sniffs the air and casts an eye up and down the doubt to check the lay of the land. The traffic whizzes past along the is what we locals call the "rat run"...a one way Terrace that becomes a short Grand Prix racing track the minute cars enter this stretch of the road.

Yang wriggles around in my arms...I take it as a sign that he is ready to plant his paws on terra firma and sure enough he takes off very eagerly along the Terrace in a posture that can only be described as a "crouching tiger" mode. Seconds later Yang starts off at a cat-trot along the road and quickly appears like a normal walking cat. I drag behind with Yang going along at full throttle in the direction of the gardens. The traffic roars and Yang stops intermittently to check that the coast is clear and proceeds at the cat-trot until we reach the gates of the garden.

The noise of children can be heard coming from the garden's children's swing-area. Yang stops to cast a glance in their direction and bashes on towards the garden gate. In through the gate and Yang strides it out along the garden path. Yang knows exactly where to walk.He knows where he is allowed to walk. Years of walking on lead have given him this expertise (I reflect on my expert training). Yang makes a bee-line straight for the Bamboo bush and seconds later the sounds of chomp...chomp can be heard as Yang doses himself on some of the Bamboo leaves to aid his digestion. What a wise cat!
Yang springs up on to the garden wall and struts along stopping along the way for his usual strokes from his adoring owner and the proclamation "what a good are!" Yang raises his head and straightens his back and throws his tail in the air and struts regalian style along the wall. I pat Yang on the head (quite frequently) and say "what a good are!"
"Yes!" "A very clever boy!"

We walk on and a squirrel dashes out in front of our path and I say to Yang excitedly "Oh! look Yang there's a little squirrel!" Yang glances at the squirrel and quickly glances away again without any real sign of interest. Yang dashes here and there checking out thye various bushes.
The bushes are the cat's Post-Office where they leave various messages for each other via their customary cat-spray. Having posted his letters Yang moves on along the path pausing at benches along the way where Yang (when in the mood) likes to sit and view the pedestrians of the gardens. Wooosh! and off we go again and Yang trots around the far corner of the gardens.
We are coming into the home-run now.

The children can be heard playing on the swings and, almost simultaneously, Yang observes two toddlers advancing rapidly towards him..."A Cat! A Cat!" cry the toddlers. Yang's trot quickens to a run with a look of "Not today folks" and makes off speedily down the path. Yang,ofcourse, is quite used to the celebrity position and usually "Laps-Up" all the pats and praises. I chuckle at my own instantaneous Pun. It seems,however, that for Yang this is not one of his patting days.
Wooosh! and away we dash.

Yang walks gingerly towards the occupied benches. He always gives these benches a very wide berth when occupied and we pass the benches at top speed. Yang finds himself an empty bench and we sit down to spend a few minutes watching the world go by. The lady who lives across from the gardens gives us her usual wave and I wave back and a feeling of Motherly Pride surges over me." Oh! Yang", I say, "You are a clever cat!"

It is a dull,damp day and the rain is not far off. It will be interesting to see how long Yang stays in the garden to day. On sunny days,ofcourse, he never wants to leave! Yang continues with his collecting mail and this time he sniffs the rubbish-bins and decides to leave his calling-card there...spray...spray.

We are on our second lap of the garden and Yang charges on stopping at the grass verge and chomps away stocking-up on his digestive-aids. Seconds later Yang heads for the garden gate and he leads me along the Terrace in our homeward direction.
"Wait! Wait!" I say in a commanding voice because we are about to cross the Grand-Prix track.
Yang cocks his ears listening for when the noise of the traffic stops. Yang knows when the traffic noise stops the coast is clear and safe to cross the road. "Good Boy! Yang".

Yang strides down the Terrace pulling heavily on his lead as if there is not another minute to lose and heads towards our house door. I fumble for the door-key and in we go and again fumble for our apartment key. Yang carefully negotiates passing through the doors. The door opens and Yang dashes in and makes for his food bowl just to check thatit is still there!!
I bend down while Yang stands quite still to have his collar removed and receive my tender strokes. Yang walks around the apartment,no doubt to assure himself that everything is as it should be!! Yang then plunks himself down on to the carpet and proceeds to groom himself.
"Wasn't that a lovely walk?" and I say, "You are a good boy".

(Our walk lasted 45 minutes)

Friday, November 24, 2006

GWEN: 10 - 1 of 100 - 50 - 10 - 1



The Gwen Manifesto


1. I will give life to materials, matter and stuff

2. I will develop myself/my work to its full potential

3. I will make objects that are visually interesting, experimental and way-out

4. My work will be created by experimenting with and exploring materials

5. How I feel towards the materials and how I’m feeling at the time may influence the work

6. The physical interaction of making is irresistible

7. I will use harmony and discordance, control and release, serendipity

8. I will need to be brave and go where I haven’t been before

9. I will be courageous

10. It will be exciting

11. There will be failure and there will be pain

12. There will be success and there will be elation

13. There will be fun and there will be playing

14. I want to make contemporary art

15. I am excited by contemporary art and its possibilities

16. How my objects relate to each other and the space they occupy will be crucial

17. I want my art to be strong and exciting

18. I want my art to be strong and have presence

19. I want my art to be strong and wacky

20. I want my art to capture the interest/imagination of the viewer

21. My art is visual and doesn’t have a complicated meaning and is therefore accessible to all people

22. I will explore the formal issues, structure, texture, the potential and possibilities of all materials, matter and stuff

23. As I progress I will move forward always using references but at the same time pushing my own boundaries

24. I will shout from the rooftops: ‘I love art!’

Friday, November 17, 2006

10 to 1 of 100-50-10-1

Crop rotation
Aide memoir


cornelius artists walk


My bladder is tight full to bursting I need a piss. I turn off Commercial Street and walk down Wentworth Street.
I pass the stalls selling knock-off, rip-off and end of season. I carry on walking my feet carrying me and the full weight of my bladder my need.
I can smell the food from café’s and shops, in turns making me hungry and nauseous but there is something else, always the something else. I feel the eyes, the greedy eyes. Weighing me up, watching me walk. Wanting to own or disregard me like the rest of the produce before me.
I see my destination, my need and I feel relieved. Second street on the right, at the top of Leyton Street well in the middle of the top of Leyton Street. I walk towards the green railings to see the paint peeling off and a small landing leading down.
I stand for a moment only a split second and look down. I take my first steps. 1 then 2, through to 17. These steps I take to my relief my need.
I enter the toilet. To my right are 3 sinks to my left are 9 urinals and behind the 9 urinals are another 9 and behind them 5 cubicles. The walls are tiled from top to bottom, the bottom meeting the floor which in turns is marble the concrete. All the materials in this place all have seen better newer days.
To my left at the 9 urinals are men standing. Although I presume they are all peeing they still turn around. Turn around to see who has entered this place. This place with the tiled walls and the marble and concrete floor and the smell of piss of desperation and something else.
I take my place and fumbling almost tearing I undo my jeans in my hurry in my need. I pull my ck’s and take my cock out. I start to pee immediately and I can feel the relief, watching the yellowy white bubbling flow. At first rushing in it’s need to be free from me. As it slows I look to my left and right.
On my left stands a man. He is looking down but not at his own cock but at mine. He wears the uniform of the city grey and stripes. He looks back up and catches my eye. I stare at him for nothing more than a blink and then I get it. I get his greedy eyes. The eyes that want to own me. I fell my face turn red flush from embarrassment and the need to finish my need almost sated.
Nearly finished now. The need subsides. I feel like I am pushing the last drops from my cock. Still looking down I shake away the last drops the end of my need and put my cock back inside my ck’s. I look at the city uniform with the greedy eyes. He is still watching wanting. I button my jeans and walk towards the way I came. I climb the 17 steps to contend again with the other eyes the other smells.

(deviant) Art 2007

Call for proposals - (deviant) Art 2007

The Deviant Art Festival happened in July 2006
in the town of Trollhättan in Sweden.
We have been invited to return next year.
The festival is expanding with the addition of
new exhibition spaces, an increased budget
and a larger organising team.

This all means that we need a fresh
batch of artists to get involved…

We are open to submissions; visit

to download proposal information.

To learn more visit the festival blog: which has
info and images from last years events.

We look forward to hearing from you.

Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Critical Practice 2

Critical Practice 2

Giles' Walk
Enter House. High. Performance. World. Good. House. Dark. Confronted. Door. Skinny. Girl. Ruffled. Hair. Blue Jeans. Grey. Hoody. Face. Whitened. Black. Circles. Surrounded. Eyes. Red. Paint. Dripped. Cheek. Ushered. Upstairs. Introduced. Seven. Painted. Individuals. Walked. Kitchen. Avoid. Bathroom. Painting. Putrid. Punch. Whiskey. Lounge. Dirty. Sofa. Avoid. Man. Passed. Scanned. Room. Three. Painted. Individuals. Computer. Source. Music. Sat.

Gwen's Walk

Every 10 Minutes
W12 to W6 to W12
21 10 06

1,170 steps
timer alarm

1,083 steps
timer alarm
girl walking away from me
plane overhead
cool air
aware of lack of concentration

1.54pm pause
2.23pm resume
1,100 steps
timer alarm

1,020 steps
timer alarm
old woman with umbrella walking towards me
engines/wheels on ground
aware that concentration is deteriorating

1.054 steps
timer alarm
disorientated man crossing road towards me
wind in trees
bird singing

315 steps
front door
glad to be home

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Moving Finger


The moving finger writes,and,having writ moves on. Nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line,nor all your tears wash out a word of it.

Rubaiyat Of Omar Khayyam (1048-1122)