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Us humans are always being reprimanded for the marks that we are leaving on the earth; rain forest destruction, pollution, land fill, building sites, litter...it goes on and on endlessly making us feel guilt for our own existence. But what people fail to remember and celebrate, are the beautiful marks we leave, not just the architecture, art works and literature that for most are unobtainable and nothing to do with them, but the marks and 'imperfections' we leave all around us, memories, notes, little shapes and compositions. I love these things that prove our existence our work and our expression. Graffiti, notes of love on toilet doors, discarded shopping lists in supermarket trolleys and layers of paint, tape and paper that uncover the past. These things inspire me and tell a story.
If life imitates art then why can't the everyday human create their own masterpiece with sellotape, Biro and a bit of dirt. It proves we are alive, that we're existing and engaging with our surroundings. A pristine white box is no evidence of life or living. It's the little things that count.
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