po·sy (pz)
n. pl. po·sies
1. A flower or bunch of flowers; a bouquet.
2. Archaic A brief verse or sentimental phrase, especially one inscribed on a trinket.


Uncreative Strategies

1) Find an out of date phrase or slogan to graffiti in a public place in a non-permanent way


I knew immediately what I was going to do to fulfil this assignment: I wanted to use toilet paper to 'graffiti' because it is temporary. I chose a quote from The Picture of Dorian Grey, the book I am reading at the moment which was "All Art is Quite Useless". I thought this would be subversive because it would be necessary to use it, so the art gains a function, rendering the message incorrect. I wrote the slogan on every sheet of toilet paper in a roll and took it to Plug on a night out.








I returned to my installation a few hours after I had set it up - to my surprise someone had pulled the entire roll out of the dispenser and put it in the bin! I suppose the statement was correct after all; my work was completely and utterly useless.







2) Make a subversive Christmas card


I was a little wary of this - I'm familiar with cards with offensive or subversive slogans like Urban Outfitter's "Merry Fucking Christmas" card . I feel a bit uncomfortable with making a card that might be of any commercial value. I was discussing my trepidation about this with my friend Joe, who suggested I write the card to the buyer - encouraging a dialogue between me and the very intimate audience. I really like the idea of a dialogue so I will write a letter to my audience asking them to tell me things about them like their favourite colour, or shoe size. Hopefully they will put the card back in the shop for me to buy back and we will have a strange pen pal relationship.



   

Unfortunately, I don't have any evidence of "drop-lifting" this card back into the shop (I was trying to be discreet).

I also wrote a letter to the postman (post officer). I wrote a Christmas card to him (or her) asking them to reply. But maybe they only use e-mail?









3) Record everything you swallow for one week


I have been collecting and writing receipts to document everything I swallow. I've been asking friends to write me receipts if they make me a glass of water, and it's getting boring very fast.

















I wasn't entirely sure what to do with these 'meal tickets' - I tried layering them over each other to show what one weeks worth of food looks like:





4) Find a newspaper image and make it iconic using the methods of Andy Warhol


I found a small picture of a Woodpecker in The Times and decided to make it my 'iconic' image. I supposed that the way Andy Warhol made things iconic was by repetition, by exposing as many people as possible to the image. I scanned the image in and printed copies which I posted through all of the letterboxes in my Halls of Residence, with an instruction to search 'The Woodpecker Project' on Facebook, where they would be directed to a webpage dedicated to the image. 




I couldn't reach the top letterboxes...



5) Use the edible snowflakes

I confess, I got completely stuck with this. I had no idea how to make something out of the wafer snowflakes that would complement my other work until I looked back at my notes from the first week's session. I had written about 'recipes' for an artwork, and I thought that the only thing I could reasonably do with the snowflakes was to make cake with them. I baked some fairy cakes and I took them into work but, in exchange for a cake, I asked my workmates to fill in a form where they write the year they were born and the year of their best winter. I also asked them to leave the wrappers behind.






With this information I plan to make a scatter graph. In my head, I imagine the shape of the graph to then become the basis for a drawing or an installation, perhaps incorporating the used cake wrappers or more edible snowflakes?

6) Make a colour chart

I have always been reluctant to use colour in my work (just have a look at last year's blog). I was talking to my mum about how concerned I was by the notion of a colour chart and she suggested I photograph white things because I might still find an interesting variety of shades in the things I choose to photograph. I used a disposable camera to set myself limits: the amount of photos was pre-determined; I had no means of editing; size and shape were decided for me. 
When I collected my photos from Boots, however, I found that they had only given me 10 of my original 30-odd frames back. I suppose this adds another element to my limitations - they must have thought the white photos were simply duds!











I wonder who gets to name colours? That would be such a good job.