Your boy at Christie’s (again)
An evening of glitz and glam, raising money for our community and testing the waters with a new concept
In 2025, we’ve made excellent progress in our efforts to find a cure for HIV. I was reading about a new therapy that forces the virus out of cells where it usually hides (undetectable) and that is probably one of the most significant steps forward in eradicating this bitch. Having said that, the stigma around HIV is still very much a thing, and people living with HIV need and deserve proper care. That’s where the Terrence Higgins Trust comes in. That’s why evenings like this are important. We all need to do better at educating ourselves and others about the realities of living with HIV and, more importantly, how our community is still impacted by this virus.
I care deeply about the work the THT is doing. Their impact reaches many within the LGBTQIA+ community; my community. It’s my way to let them know I think of them often. We are on the cusp of eradicating HIV, but my poz peeps still need and deserve real support.
In the past, I donated small pieces, no bigger than A3. Small pieces are easier to sell because they’re light and easy to carry, hang or store. A big statement piece like a two by two metre frame needs a big, empty wall, which not everyone has. I also tend to donate pieces I already have; my studio was mostly empty as I was working on an exhibition concept and I got very excited at the thought of creating something new. I ended up donating a statement piece but it wasn’t because I wanted to try my luck with something bigger. For me, it all starts with the frame.
I usually get my frames from charity shops and restore them. Working with recycled frames is very important to me as I aim towards zero waste and the lowest carbon footprint. That month, the charity shops in the area ran dry on frames. In slight desperation, I dared to enter my neighbour’s antique shop where I found a frame I thought would look the part. I brought it back to my studio and restored it to a former glory. I had no idea at the time, but the frame was not for pictures; it was an old, wooden fireplace frame. That didn’t bother me but it was the source of a chuckle or two later. Now that I had the frame, the actual work could begin.
At the time, I was working on this idea I’ve been flirting with for years. A dream, really. Picture it: you walk into a gallery room and all you see is white. White walls holding white A1 sheets of paper. The audience gathers in the centre of the room. The lights go out. The majesty of Perfume Genius’ Otherside (of course) fills the space. A lullaby. An invitation to dream and wonder. And then, BOOM! UV lights reveal a sea of colour and shapes. What was hidden becomes visible, ready to be explored, contemplated and understood. Nothing wrong with adding a little spectacle and magic to a gallery show. “It is MEGA” to quote absolutely nobody (yet).
Working with invisible paint is super exciting. It’s a great medium if you want to create something that is revealed later. I love how the viewer has to shine a UV torch on the canvas to reveal it; it makes me think of the act of getting to know someone, and how personal and intimate that act can be. I also love creating a great user experience for my audiences; it’s a core principle of my practice.
Enter Self Potrait No.2 (2025)
The piece I created is deeply personal. I’ve recently been diagnosed with ADHD and I wanted to create something that speaks to my own lived experience. My mind is always filled with hundreds of thoughts and ideas with a distinct lack of focus. My diagnosis and subsequent treatment was a total game changer. It gave me the focus I badly needed, and this is what the painting is about. Under natural light, the painting looks empty with the exception of a singular dot: my focus restored by ADHD medication. Yet when the audience shines a UV torch, a tapestry of colour is revealed: the inner workings of my mind. My husband was very proud.
Artwork finished, photographed and delivered. Smita from the THT was brilliant throughout. I really appreciated her dedication throughout the long evenings and weekends. Soon enough, the auction evening arrived. It was full of really great friends and talent. Like every artist there, I was excited to see the piece and how people interacted with it. I’ve never seen an art piece like it and I was hoping the audience would share my curiosity. The reality was slightly different.
It was a great opportunity to learn something very important. The room was full of many art pieces that delighted the audience with shapes and colours; mine did not. Mine was easy to ignore; neither the small description card, the catalogue nor the torch on the pedestal stood a chance. The audience was likely overwhelmed and probably never experienced something like it; they didn’t know they had to engage; the invitation wasn’t obvious enough. The art piece was missing a crucial element: an advocate; it was missing me. I should have stood by it from the minute someone entered the room till the auction started, inviting people to experience it. It was an important lesson; I have to be present and invite people in, always.
It is and will always be my greatest privilege to offer my support. As of May 19 2025, the Terrence Higgins Trust raised £340,500 through the auction, and I’m very happy to have played my part in their success. Ultimately, that’s what mattered that evening.
PS: The piece was hung upside down (LOL) which I found absolutely hilarious. I still laugh about it.
