I had a long argument with my dad about the exhibition. He wanted to know why there were no paintings at the exhibition, why there were no bands, no performance poetry. He wasn’t entertained and he felt lost. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried not to go into a defensive rant. I told him, ‘if the viewer was bored to the point that they needed something more, then it’s my fault and something I need to take into consideration for the future.’
His next critique was that the objects I made were too large. ‘Where would I put it if i bought it?’ I explained to him how I wasn’t intending to sell them. I could see the doubts come rushing in.
I didn’t expect him to tell me that he did the same thing when he was my age. He told me how he used to take apart furniture and whatever he could find to make new constructions. His were functional. Now everything is complicated.