This week’s task included four questions encouraging participants to consider creative connections between the curves and lines that can be seen inside and outside their hotel rooms. The artists were encouraged to consider mapping as a starting point: how to do the joins between the lines and curves form a kind of map – does the map help describe an emotional landscape or provide instructions to find some hidden treasure…
And to introduce the work, here’s some words from Nick Platt, the Manager of the St Mungo’s COVID-Protect Hotel:
The Creative Challenges project that Cardboard Citizens have created has offered our clients a welcome creative outlet in trying times and the response from our clients has been phenomenal.
Our clients have created some beautiful and thought provoking works of art and it’s great to see them displayed. I’ve been impressed by the creativity and dedication that the CC team have exhibited in order to provide a tailor-made service for clients who would usually have access and benefit from such projects under normal circumstances.
Mental Wellbeing is a concern for everyone during this lockdown and none more so than those who are shielding with the most restrictive rules- this project has been a real lifeline for a number of our residents and the effects on their mental wellbeing can be clearly seen!
On a personal level working with Cardboard Citizens on their Creative Challenges project has been a pleasure - they have been responsive, supportive, and clearly hold client wellbeing and safety at the core of their values.
Alfredo
Cristiano
Treasure
One may try to find outside, lost in the lines and curves of life. One will be complete when search and see, there is plenty inside.
Look in silence and you might find different treasures. Artists give and leave their energy print there, to be found and to find us.
We are energies wanting to be kind. Treasure yourself and others and you’ll find. Once there keep it, without fuss.
Leo
Mehdi Panahi
Alicia
Sinking Deep
I’m sitting on a jetty on the shore of a lake. My bathing suit is covered by a thick cosy towel. My knees are pulled up to my chest and I’m warm in my manteau. Fall colors brighten up the far shore: orange, gold and brown streak through deep rich greens. Beyond the horizon, snow-peaked mountains continue on into heavenly realms. A brisk breeze ripples the surface of the lake. I stand and let the towel fall. The cool air is refreshing on my skin. I raise my arms and dive into the cold, crisp, clear water. The cold consumes me, shocking my body: I feel alive. I swim through the water, downwards, twisting and turning, playing, finding depth. I’ve become amphibious – there is no impulse to inhale or exhale. I feel at ease in the transparent blue. Suddenly, a warm current tugs at me. I panic. As the current becomes stronger it takes control of my trajectory. It pulls me deeper into the depths. I try to scream. I open my mouth. I suck in a lungful of water. I try to cough it out. The contraction of my lungs causes me to gulp in more and more water. The current pulls at me. I’ve lost control. I can’t fight. The contractions of my lungs ease. I’m floating: down, to the bottom of the lake.
