As a child I loved the idea of an attic room, tucked away high up under the roof. A safe, snug, cosy refuge; somewhere to read books, draw, paint and dream. My grandparents boarded out the attic of their bungalow and so on my weekend sleepovers this would become my secret agent headquarters, as well as a place to create my architectural or fashion designs - I had many career aspirations as a child.
I've carried this romantic vision with me and still relish the thought of hiding away in some kind of artist's eyrie complete with drawing board, easel and day bed.
But in some classic works of fiction, the attic room can be a place of imprisonment as in 'A Little Princess' by Frances Hodgson Burnett or 'Jane Eyre' by Charlotte Bronte. The cosy haven suddenly becomes a cold and lonely place where things have gone terribly wrong.
Having hopes and dreams is essential but hanging on to the idea of a dream whilst knowing it will never be real is not good, and so sometimes you have to let go and walk away. This piece of work was conceived at a time when I was struggling with the dream I had, and the reality I had to face.
I now have my very own little attic that brings back the feelings from childhood, and provides a cosy space for my son.
Amanda
xxx
