I have so many different roles in my life and have done so many different things over the past twenty years, it is hard to remember sometimes how I ended up stumbling onto this combination of art and genealogy. Art is supposed to be about mystique - genealogy about the raw revelation of fact. The battle between these two imperatives is a summation of my own conflicting desires. It is the beginning of another academic year and I have more responsibilities for student affairs than before. To stop feeling like a fraud, who calls herself a maker but makes so little, I cling to the scraps of process that might one day contribute to my work as an artist. For instance, I find myself making a mental note of every student with a Scandinavian sounding family name. As I sweep my polished wooden floor at home I study the grain of the wood and compare it with the architecture I have seen. As I hang out clothes, I am reminded of washing fabric in the Öresund, surrounded by dogs on the beach in Malmö.
The Australian series of Who Do You Think You Are? has put me in contact with an unknown relative and I will endeavour to explain to her how the art and actuality fit together.
