Assemblages from Found Objects
A friend once asked me to help renovate her overgrown garden. I dug up a cuckoo clock. The wooden parts had disintegrated, but some
of the figures remained. One of them became The Time Traveller.

We were walking in the mountains near Fochriw, which is in the Rhymney Valley. I started to see the discarded objects in a different way. I thought how their context could be changed; how they could be juxtaposed. Sometimes they remind me of lines from a song or a poem or someone else's past. I saw them as raw material.

I took them home, I struggled to assemble them; strange how some of the objects resonated and seemed to demand to be used.

HB 1999.
The Time Traveller