In December last year, in an empty shop in Margate, Eat My Words sat quietly day and night. It’s an installation of many meanings, but the title refers to our incapacity to speak how we really feel, and instead how we often use physical actions to relay our thoughts and emotions in the hope that we will in some way be understood.
My Mum Winnie used her skills of baking, cooking and feeding to show her love for our family. Eat My Words is based on me making of one of Winnie’s cakes, (Victoria Sponge Cake) displaying the physical movements of my body via a digital map (on the base of the installation) as I moved through my kitchen. You listen to the sounds of me cooking (I do not speak), as you walk around and through the neon reconstruction of my kitchen where I made and baked the cake.
The feedback the installation received when it was first shown at the Barbican was phenomenal and I’m just starting to really decipher it all now. It stirred up so many amazing stories of food and love from so many of the visitors. Often memories were reimagined, never having being told before, or had been buried somewhere in back of their minds.
As Eat My Words sat behind glass windows on Margate High Street, it forced a different kind of reimagining. On show but muted once more.
Eat My Words 2015- Mixed media and neon.