Charles and the Golden Egg (2018)
In the 1980’s, my father bought a 24 carat gold covered chicken egg on a KLM flight and gave it as a present to his mother-in-law. It was such a random act that my mother reckons that it’s purchase was the result of a larger than average consumption of alcohol from the inflight bar.
The egg was kept on my grans sideboard, with all the other useless nicknacks that I coveted, didn’t need, but that I hoped I would eventually inherit when she died. I spent over 30 years looking at it in its perspex box, never allowed to touch it. My gaze was constantly drawn to it no matter where I stood in her living-room. The perspex box distorted it’s shape making it resemble a small golden poo rather than an egg. So what did I do when I eventually got my hands on it? I stuffed it at the back of my nicker draw with all the other items that I don’t need, yet can’t throw away.
This piece was not created with any kind of concept in mind. It was a simple act of creativity. Where marrying a golden egg that lived nestled amongst my pants with a black and white photo from a book about Charles Bukowski, felt like the right thing to do. However, if you need to give Charles and the golden egg a raison d’être. All I can tell you is the act of making it (as with all my artwork) doctored my soul, nothing more, nothing less.
I have no definite talent or trade, and how I stay alive is largely a matter of magic.
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