Natural History
of an Artist
Field Work
Field Work
Artists in
the Field
Exploring the
Territory
An Enclosure
Visual Findings
Water Logging


Click photo to view some ramblings

Field Notes

Floriligeum Domus

Latin:
Flor - flower Legere - to gather
A floriligeum is a sixteenth century book of flower illustrations or flowers of composition, emphasising the sensual and decorative qualities of the plant as opposed to botanical studies for scientific and biological ends.

Stragglers round the park's cut edges,
broken by rustlings and foraging amongst the undergrowth.

from Park, Annika Reed, 2002

I am a straggler surveying the park, ready to forage for stories. Growing a person through finding fragments of an interior geography through objects, texts and locations. I will use a floriligeum, a seventeenth century book of flora to house the findings. My practice, the tools for this exploration, are monochrome photographs, the production of a book and some short films. This section houses the beginnings of my exploration with an aside containing my ramblings; these make up a hodge podge collection of jottings from various notebooks that I keep..

At least this was the original seed of the idea aside from the visual work. Since then through the seasons, several changes have taken place. I wanted to map a life, derive and explore someone's life through the hinterland between urban and green spaces. Notions of home sprung up from the exploration, cocooning ourselves within the home, surrounded with impressions of flora and fauna but nowhere can we see muddy foot-prints or prey left half eaten:

A wendy-house perfection ... peer out at the dark, still world and you could be anywhere: cutting through Siberian forests or the African veldt.

Maggie O'Farrell, A Cocoon of My Own, The Guardian Weekend Magazine, 19/11/02
Revealing ourselves through paraphernalia we peep through our windows onto the park, the world.

So: interiors and exteriors, personal and physical, the home, the environment, the urban. "Home" becoming the focus in my studies, especially after observing the profusion of nests emerging last spring in the park. My pocket became the home for a digital camera; ready to capture tiny nests perched defiantly amongst branches resembling entangled fingers. I began to ponder on the sheer skill and delicacy of these little winged creatures to create their homes from detritus and nature. My thoughts then turned to our homes, how we build our homes and fill them with ourselves through objects and mimicking the outside inside. How does the home change through moving things around, adding people, viewing the same interior from a different perspective or angle, seeing a door closed or ajar:

Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose garden

T.S Eliot, Four Quartets: Burnt Norton, Faber & Faber,1935.