Pieces of me: favourites, preferences and inspirations for being myself

Humans are obsessed with identity. Our developed brains that allow us to compare, feel, investigate and form opinions mean we crave a sense of distinction, of what makes us different to the other 8 billion. We spend our lives trying to establish who we are and what makes us individuals. When I was at university I wrote my dissertation on the John Hughes coming of age films and I crossed a little into sociology and psychology with a theme around popular culture and identity: whether things like your fashion sense or music taste are surface level and superficial or if they speak more deeply to your morals, personality and character. It's something I think about quite often. When we're teenagers, like the characters in these films, I think we largely choose the popular culture we associate ourselves with, either because everyone else likes it, or the exact opposite. As we become adults it feels more innate and dependent on the chemistry of our brains. Certain songs, clothes, art etc. just seem to tickle the right spot in our brains that make us go 'yes, that one'. I for one can't explain to you why I would choose a Van Gogh over a Rembrandt or why I prefer a crochet cardigan to a blazer.

A poster I saw years ago in the Design Museum - always found it amusing regarding how we decide we like things on an impulse.

Now I'm aware I'm probably being somewhat naive in saying that these likes and preferences are within our brain structure. I know there will be a dependence on trends, point of life and environmental and historical influences from our pasts. But the feeling that these brain-ticklers are for each one of us part of a little semi-anatomical map of our selves and identities is quite a comforting notion. I love the thought that we are born with a brain that enjoys the chord sequences found in folk music or the use of romantic language found in poetry, and then as we grow up we either admire it from afar or create some of it ourselves.

I'm now going to be entirely self-indulgent and write about my own brain-ticklers - the music, art, literature and design that appeals to my receptors and synapses and influences my own creative decisions, and sometimes even my life decisions too. Because that's the thing about culture, it forms facets of our identities because of our brains, our personalities, our histories, our environments, but it can also reverse the flow chart and inform influence those deeper parts of our identities. For that reason I think there is no such thing as superficial features of our identity - all the facets work in one big mechanism with each part hinging on lots of others.

As a little tidbit of extra info about my own brain I'm going to put myself at risk of confusing you all but I hope that some of you can understand or even relate to this. In a sort of subconscious understanding in my brain, all of these brain-tickling things that I like or enjoy have a sense of being round or circular, and things I don't have any interest in feel angular and pointed. Clearly my brain likes circles more than triangles and that is how it differentiates. Odd? Defying rational sense? Absolutely, but I think helps to prove my point a little about personal preferences being chemical and built into the brain. Even if its for me and no one else has a clue what I'm talking about!

Here's a section of my list of brain-ticklers that speak to me in my life right now. Some of them have been on the list for years, some only a few months, but I suspect they will all remain firmly on my core list for most of my adult life.

Liberty Fabrics

I was 16 when I first discovered the fabric and haberdashery section at the Liberty department store. It's a haven of colour and pattern and the prints are exquisitely detailed and hand designed by talented artists. I couldn't take in all the beautiful things I was seeing - I felt like a child at Disneyland. Since that day my love of the Liberty printed fabrics has only grown and I have several pieces in my home from art prints inspired by heritage designs to a covered tape measure for sewing use. The colour combinations, shapes and busy-ness of the prints sing to my brain and make me want to surround myself with them. A couple of favourites include the Ianthe print in the red and blue colourway and Ciara in blues and oranges. Perhaps one day I'll be lucky enough to find a Liberty covered sofa in a second-hand emporium (someone I follow online did exactly this - definitely not bitter) or buy a single roll of the stunning wallpapers and create a luxurious downstairs loo.

Ianthe and Ciara. Images from Libertylondon.com

Van Gogh

From the amount of people I saw at the exhibition at the National Gallery recently it's clear that there are many of us who enjoy Van Gogh's work. Possibly the most popular artist today, I wonder what exactly it is that so many of us are drawn to. For me it's the frequently appearing combination of yellow ochre and ultramarine blue. These two shades marry so well with the botanical scenes and landscapes that Van Gogh often paints as they represent some of the biggest parts of the natural world - the sun, sky and sea. Van Gogh doesn't always use them to depict these exact things, yet because they are within the image they show us that those 3 elements of nature permeate everything. Even more so when you mix them together and get a slightly muddy green - the colour that perhaps most tells 'nature'.

The slightly psychedelic way that Van Gogh saw and painted the world is beautiful, and evocative of a sense of awe of how many colours can be found in our world. For me, Van Gogh saw and painted more colours than the rest of us can see, which is special to me as I have always had a bit of an obsession with how each and every one of us might be seeing the same colour in different ways.

From the 'Olive Trees' series. Here the ultramarine fills the sky and the mountains and the ground is underpainted with the ochre. Image from Wikipedia.

George Harrison

Three years ago while trapped in one bedroom while awaiting results of covid tests, my partner introduced me to the Get Back documentary that had just been released. It follows the Beatles in 1969 as they write and record Let it Be. Obviously I knew a fair chunk of the Beatles discography and had been listening to odd tracks here and there for years, but watching the four men mess about, drink tea, bicker, complain and eventually write some songs, supplemented by snippets of knowledge from my Beatle-encyclopedia other half, peaked my interest and I began a new, deeper relationship with the music of the biggest band of all time.

The Beatle who's songs kept cropping up as particular favourites was George Harrison; the reserved, technical yet melodic guitarist whom during the filming of these scenes was writing his epic solo album All Things Must Pass. Upon further listening of George's solo work I realised I had been somehow missing these songs up until this point. His uncomplicated yet poetic lyrics tied up into gentle melodies that feel like waves of emotions are complimented by his soft voice, the tone of which resonates in my head like the feeling of hugging a loved one after time apart. 'Run of the Mill' comes to mind with the opening line:

'Everyone has choice, when to and not to raise their voices'

A simple sentiment and observation that smacks you in the face to remind you what kind of a person to be today, set against the repetitive hums of an acoustic guitar and pulsating blasts of horns.

The cover for All Things Must Pass. Image from the Beatle Bible

I often wondered if I'd ever have that music that speaks to my soul like 'true' music fans talk about - if there is an artist that I would sob for when i found out they'd died. I do - it's George Harrison, and I have sobbed about his death several times despite it being 24 years ago. I know that George's music will follow me throughout my life and be central to many emotional times, but I do wish I'd lived as an adult when he did, even been able to experience these songs live on the very few performances he made in his solo career. There are lots of musicians and artists I follow and appreciate but none who's music feels so much like it was written for my brain as George's. Over time perhaps this will change but his lyrics, melodies and rhythms feel too ingrained in me to ever be unimportant.

When Harry Met Sally

There's not many films I can watch repeatedly but this classic romcom is one of them. The late 1980s aesthetic, Meg Ryan's gently husked voice and the emphasis on everyday conversation between two people solidifies When Harry Met Sally as my go-to film. The combination of actress Meg Ryan and writer Nora Ephron is evidently successful for me as I also love You've Got Mail and Sleepless in Seattle, but swapping Tom Hanks for Billy Crystal just pips WHMS to the post as Billy's deadpan, somewhat monotonous characterisation of Harry lends itself perfectly to Ephron's awkwardly honest dialogue. This seems miles away from the cheesy predictability of most films of this genre. Lines like 'oh really? Well that symptom is ****ing my wife' and 'they don't make Sunday. Why not? Because of God' are so cut to the bone, so straightforwardly honest and real that you could have overheard them in a local pub.

One of my favourite scenes is when Harry is telling Jess about the breakdown of his marriage whilst at a baseball game and they continue to maintain the Mexican wave despite being in the midst of a very intense and important conversation. When Harry Met Sally avoids excessively dramatised or 'big' scenes - even the confession from Harry comes while they are both in the middle of a room of people dancing to party music. The point to me seems to be that big things can happen to people quietly, amongst the backdrop of the rest of the world getting on with its everyday life. I could list quote after quote that I love for their poetic frankness and they underpin my fondness for the film but ultimately I don't think I would have such love for it without Meg Ryan, Billy Crystal, the New York setting and the 1980s style and design. It appeals to me because of all these elements together and I think without even one of them the magic would be gone.

An iconic still from the film. Image from The Today Show.

Vintage seed packaging

Packaging and adverts were so much more interesting in the 20th century. Rather a sweeping statement I know but design before computer programs appeals to me - hand-painted or printed images and patterns designed to carry the brand or product's purpose, benefits and ideals. Before cameras were a common feature of life, depicting items such as flowers meant a reliance on talented artistry. Seed packets from the 1950s and before are beautiful for this reason, and the combination of the painterly images and simplistic fonts framed on a rectangular packet like a miniature oil painting makes these little images one of my favourite things to collect and have on view. I love that the flower representations are more impressionistic than accurate, conveying the joy and colour that these flowers would bring to a garden. Often the flowers are on a background of a colour that compliments its own petals so these packets can be incredibly useful when placing colours together in my own work.

Vintage seed packets and catalogues on display in the Garden Museum in London.

I invite you now to think about what's on your list of personal loves and preferences in the cultural world. Consider what things have been on the list previously and which ones will stay there indefinitely, and how they connect to you or speak to your life. Though I hope that you've taken away another point - that sometimes you cannot explain why something pleases your eyes or mind, and perhaps that is because the feelings fall deeper in our consciousness than we can access.