Forms float in and out of my mind. I see a shape and then draw it, but nothing else might evolve from it. This is the first ever Mechanical Pollen sketch. It's tiny and filthy and probably close to ten years old. It’s been on the fridge door, the floor of the studio, just hanging around. I kept drawing others, and the idea has slowly evolved.
Early last year I wanted to see it made in 3-D so I did a class in papier mâché and created a small sculpture of it. It’s satisfying to be able to walk around it and look at it from different angles. I would love to make huge Mechanical Pollen out of bronze or concrete.
After years of dancing around me, one popped into "The Marriage Of Mechanical Pollen'. It seemed to be flying through the piece. It has a distorted blue shadow at its base that came from looking at Sassetta’s work.
As is often the case, I don’t see where stuff comes from until well after a piece has left my studio. I need to get a lot of distance to see the bigger picture. It might be years before I make out a thread weaving through the work, but more often, it never bubbles up to consciousness.
As I am writing this now, I realise how much groundwork the Mechanical Pollen idea has laid for the arrival of the Chemical Constables. It’s funny how something that is, in fact, ten years in the making still manages to feel like it just dropped out of the blue.
I started the piece in Italy in 2016 - that’s what it looked like.
Now that it's finsihed it has these yellow lines that move entirely selfishly through the centre of the piece, keeping the opposing blues separated and creating the space for the Pollen to buzz.