C4RD
Day 1
A cold room on a wet gloomy Sunday. Train strike, deserted platform, looking out of the window on to a dystopian view. Cold cold atmosphere. No one is here, sitting alone on a wobbly chair in the middle of this bare room. A drawing residency, paper, pen, ink, charcoal.
Day 2
A Saturday. 2 hours on trains to get in to C4RD. Listening to the train moving along the tracks... this space I am traveling to has extended beyond the boxed in room to the time travelling to the space. In my bag an old 1970's Russian/ Arabic dictionary that used to belong to an uncle of mine who was sent by the Egyptian government on a scholarship to study in USSR. The pages, yellow with age and the seam falling apart. I start drawing lines in ink and pen, reading the Arabic words that pop out of the page. Shapes, words and lines along the tracks. Words in Arabic that translate to 'The United States of America', 'Ministry of War', 'Cost of living', 'Truth' .... Once I got into the space, these torn pages came together and connected forming organic shapes, bubbles of thoughts and ideas, reflected against the cold sparce atmosphere of this room.
Day 3
Today the sun shines through creating shadows and a little warmth in the space. How to depict this change in atmosphere? how to draw this feeling? I draw shadows...
