When I started to draw songs, She Moved Through the Fair was the first one that I drew.
The “Knife and Fork Factory” anectdote makes me think of abstract art.
It seems to me that small children are quite happy with the idea of abstract art; paintings don’t have to represent anything, they are just made for the joy of creation, and displayed for the joy of looking. As we get older (and more able to create representative images), I think we sometimes lose this facility. Some people regain the ability to relate to abstract work, others never quite do. I’m trying to. Some abstract art moves me (the red Rothkos in the Tate; Barbara Hepworth’s organic forms). Some I struggle with (Pollock). I have only recently started to paint abstracts, though, and then very rarely.
Basically, the Knife and Fork Factory is anything I want it to be.
When I was just a little girl, I used to come home from playschool with lovely, colourful, splashy paintings that weren’t pictures of anything. My mother would ask me what it was a picture of. My standard answer was “Colours” (which was basically accurate), but that didn’t seem to satisfy her. One day – I think that she had asked me to set the table for a meal – I made up a subject on the spot: “It’s a knife and fork factory”.
The title has stuck in my mind and has become synonymous with making things up as I go along.
It has occurred to me that it would make a good name for the Art Gallery that I have no intention of opening. So, instead, I am using it as a name for a blog containing musings on assorted subjects close to my heart. Which will, I am sure, include art.