Ghost Stories in Ink and how Sophie is a medium

Ghost Stories in Ink and how Sophie is a medium

‘I am never quite sure if I really ever own the things I create, it’s more like I unearth them but they were there all along, waiting for me to find them.‘

– When did you realise that you liked to blend your ink art skills with mythic, narrative and alternative culture?

I’ve always been fascinated by folklore and telling stories, so I’ve never not been exploring them with anything I’ve used creatively, so I don’t think there was a moment of realisation as such, but more that as long as I can remember it’s something I’ve explored. I’m an author as well as an artist, and so narrative and story telling has always been a fundamental part of what I do.

I had a struggle in my earlier life to find myself as an artist as I suffered from a lot of negative influences telling me that what I was drawn too was inferior to ‘real’ culture, but when I rediscovered my path I was older and stronger, so as I re-built my drawing skills it just felt natural to explore the ideas I’d previously been forced to turn away from.

This particular body of work I’m creating, which I call the Wild, Wide Woods, really began to form in the days after Christmas, which in British tradition was always a time when the veil between the seen and unseen are thin, societies rules are up turned, and the long dark nights are a cover for all sorts of strangeness. It’s typified by the figure of the ‘Obby Oss’ or ‘Hodden Hoss’ which is a character from what’s known as Mummer plays, which are short plays put on by a group of travelling players, who go door to door, mostly to pubs, giving a performance in exchange for beer and food. The ‘hobby horse’ figure which has many names in each part of the country, is played by a masked figure, the mask being made from a Horse’s skull, often decorated with ribbons. There’s a discussion as to the origin of these plays and their characters, they are mentioned in some form in both Shakespeare and Chaucer, and have a Christian theme now, but it’s speculated that their roots are in a pre-Christian world. So I’m trying to capture that sense I always have at this time of year, where ghost stories are told and things are not quite as they seem, despite all the official celebrations.

It could also be as simple as that the world I explore is very dark, often happening at night, and using ink gives me access to ultimate blacks and a limited colour palette which lends itself to night-scapes. Like most ideas, it’s not often a moment of inspiration, like a bolt out of the blue, but a gradual evolution as you search through a mass of possibilities, picking up a threads to see where they take you. Of course, you only remember the ones that prove to be successful, the floor is littered with ones that didn’t come to anything!

– What do you do with the ones that didn’t come to anything? As an artist, what do you do with the ones that don’t make the cut?

They cover the dodgy plaster on my walls! There are pieces which I’m not done with yet but I’m either not sure where they’re heading, or what comes next, or I know have played a part on the way to something else – all of these I try and keep. Then I am ruthless and recycle things if I’ve held into them for a long time and not looked at them, though I will scan and store them digitally or as a scrap book. Friends – or people I won’t see again, depending on the pieces – get them as gifts, and I’ll give some to charity shops. Mostly though I kind of keep them, because like I said, I may not know where they’re going yet, but one day I might. They’re like old friends and memories, they’re all part of who I am now.

– Have you ever wondered about how your art is a part of your soul but someone now has a piece of you in their home and you’ll never get it back? Is there a sense of completeness in being scattered so far and wide?

I think it’s more like imagining all my art is like stars, and when one leaves and finds a home elsewhere, it takes a little light with it to shine where it ends up! I am never quite sure if I really ever own the things I create, it’s more like I unearth them but they were there all along, waiting for me to find them.

– and to round us off, where is it that you hope this will end? When the light turns off, what would you love to leave behind?

I’d like people to find my art and have it make them smile, and just see something that for a moment takes them out of their day, a glimpse something otherworldly.