Caragh Thuring

And I was like, oh, really?

And we've got one for dinner.

So I was like that was a sort of white meat sausage.

And I thought, OK, I've never heard of that.

And I sort of forgot about it.

And then, you know, when I made that painting, I suddenly realized, remembered this sausage and I was researching the sort of visuals around it.

And there's imbuses in the town with little plastic motifs that sit on the top of the hut serving these sausages.

with a sort of a roll and the sausage in it and it looked very sort of phallic and vaginal this this sort of combination of the two things so I painted it as a sort of not as a portrait but a sort of reference to a portrait or something or even sex or the union of two people or something so it sort of carried all these things and none of it at the same time you know and that's what I enjoy that you can

have many ideas and aspects to the work and some of them are readable some of them are not you know there's a pleasure making the work in that sense to to have those things and sometimes they translate and you know see what we can do with them but the painting in the show now with the sausage carried on from that really and sort of being interrogated

And I did also make a series of what I call lateral portraits, which were the window paintings from photographs I took in Holland, where people have displays on their window ledges and they're usually symmetrical.

And you see, always see through the windows in a very traditional Dutch way.

You know, you've seen that through history that there's no sort of.

Sometimes there's a lace curtain historically, but you could see right through to the back garden where in Britain we're always sort of closed down and everything's shut up.

And even in other countries that are hotter, you never see into the home.

And this is this sort of strange boundary line, this sort of liminal space between one space and the other.

And it's very narrow, but it's almost like a display of this is who I am, you know.

So I saw those as lateral portraits of the inhabitants and their people.

Of course, I didn't know who they were.

I wouldn't describe it in that way and I think you can't make work without something resonating for yourself.

Wherever that resonance comes from, it's sort of like little sparks go off about different things and you collect them when you're moving around the world, you know, whether it's music or someone you've spoken to or something you've looked at or what's going on in the news or something you've seen in the street.