Top 15 Ayobola Kekere-Ekun Quotes

I'm curious what she would make of the world now. I mean, considering the British Empire's history and whatnot. Also, I just find her interesting as an individual. So it would be two for the price of one.

Do they have to be artists? I’d have a very random selection of people so I could watch the sparks fly. I'm here for it. A bit of chaos never hurt anyone!

I've noticed; it tends to be like a particular pool of books. If that doesn't work, it means I need something more like grounding. So I will restart a yearly ritual earlier than I had planned. For example, I reread all the Harry Potter's every year.

I get very attached to my tools. They've come with me every time I've moved. So whatever tools I start project with, I will usually stick with them. Throughout. I also get superstitious about cleaning parts of my studio when I work. I will usually avoid cleaning in the middle of stage. It just messes with the energy otherwise. I don't know how else to explain it. When I'm really struggling to work, I take la few days off. And I reread two favourite books. It can’t be a new book has to be something I've read before and loved. I read two books. And then I watch Beyoncé’s “I Am” world tour. It works every time.

I have no loyalty in music a bop is a bop. So my general shuffle play is quite varied. Sometimes I'd rather like listen to a series or movie I've already seen so I just watch it in my head. From time to time, I’ll listen to stand-up comedy.

Yeah, yeah. I mean, I am a little healthier now in the sense that I keep the work out of my bedroom. This is something I just started like literally like two months ago. It was a matter of, I love you but I need some space.

When lockdown hit I just moved everything into my old flat because I didn't know how long lockdown was going to be, so it just made sense to have everything close by. I loved it. I loved having my work where I live and just being able to work anytime I wanted. There's an intimacy to living with your work. It’s one of the first and last things you see every single day and I love that. It also like reminded me of the early days of my practice when I literally just worked out of my bedroom. I think for now I'm gonna keep working out of my flat. I will probably go back to a more traditional studio situation at some point but for now, I think I'm gonna stick with this.

A bit. This new body of work is very personal and therapeutic. It's like the next stage for me after two years of therapy so far. It's like a positive pain. Llike exercising your body. It hurts, but you know, it's also making things better. I think that's how I’d describe it.

My sister has this theory that I'm making a self-portrait over and over again. But I've told her she's not a critic or historian, so I don’t have to listen to her to her. If she gets her theory publishes, then I'll take her seriously.

Maybe they're a combination of all the women I've known and all the women I wish I knew. Except for newest body of work where I'm drawing on my family's history. Those pieces feel far more personal.

It's a box frame, like glass or perspex. It’s really important to keep people's fingers away from the pieces. That’s a downside to the what am I looking at reaction. The instinctive reaction is to touch what you’re trying to understand.

They’re alive! Yeah, I mean, I know when the work is complete. Before I even start, I know the end. I think if I if my process was more open ended, I'd still be making my first piece. I'd never finished. I'm not gonna set myself up like that. I know who I am.

The last thing I do for every piece is that little glint in the eye. And it always changes everything. Like clockwork. I always do it last, because that’s the moment the piece becomes. They move from existence as a thing to a new plane where they are beings. It feels cruel to complete the animation process any earlier than I have to. It's like it's always magical for me and I still don't know what it is about that little glint that changes everything. And quite frankly, I think at this point I've made my peace with not knowing. Besides, so much of my work is so structured, you know, and process driven. It makes the intuitive bits very special. It's fine. I don't have to know everything.

I'm perfectly fine with never figuring out what it is. Because, it’s a matter of what ifs. What if understanding those intangible qualities or variables that make my work what it is gives the power to actively shape my practice? But what if knowing the tangibility of the intangible compromises the spirit of the work? It's a bit a bit of a Pandora's box type thing. Like, it could be hella cool. But it could also not.

I think the glint is the physical activation of the rest of the intuition that went into the work. An expression of my inability to explain why I’ve made certain choices, while knowing they were the right choices to make.