The 2012 Advent Calender: For the 25 days of Christmas, I will be blogging each day about a miscellaneous thing I love. Not necessarily a big thing, not necessarily a small thing and not in any order.
Not art in general (not to casually dismiss the whole of the history of art in four words.) For today I’m talking about three very specific things that I love that have been given to me by people in my life.
1. Children of the Revolution
This picture was given to me by a friend at college called Rachel. I only really knew her for those two years and lost touch when I went to university. She was the person whose house I escaped to after I came out to my parents, and for one birthday she painted me this. Children of the Revolution was a song that I loved, and still do, and the beauty of the painting is you can pretty much turn it any which way you want and it still makes sense. I can’t put my finger on quite why this picture means so much to me—there are other gifts from people that have gone by the wayside, but this one has always gone with me from home to home and sits in my bedroom to this day.
2. Brenda, Mr Danby, Penny & Robert in Whitby
In October 2010 we went to the Whitby Goth Weekend, sleeping in a tent in gale force winds, and attending the signing of The Bride That Time Forgot by Paul Magrs dressed as four of his main characters. I had so much fun locating all the parts of the costume, with a ridiculous level of detail: beehive wig, sixties glasses, maid’s apron, top hat, Deadly Boutique logo, Abbess puppet, Miramar-logoed name badges. Shortly after, Katintheattic presented me with this wonderful painting of us all which is by far my favourite thing she’s ever painted. It’s framed and hangs above my bed.
3. Zombie Matt
A close second for my favourite of Kat’s paintings, this picture is based on a photograph that she took of me several years ago, all made up in Alkborough woods and scaring the locals. Hanging around my flat, it has once genuinely been considered as suggestive enough of a disturbed mind to section me, and is frequently eyed with discomfort by John, who tries to banish it. One day I’ll hang it in the bathroom. That’ll teach him.