Bathroom Village

The house that I spent most of my angst-infested adolescence in was a rickety little miner's cottage, in a Victorian coastal town, it was the first house my mother had ever bought on her own, and I presume, because of a lack of funding, and a proliferation of sample-colour paint pots we decided to paint practically every wall, cornice and border a different colour, the effect was dramatic, but beautfiul none-the-less. Despite the amazingly elaborate garden my mother some how acheived, the house needed re-stumping and the floor resembled something out of Bettlejuice, with slopes and waves like the ocean.
These oddly placed, literal gaps, in the flooring enabled a wealth of funghi to develop in my bathroom. At the time, I'm sure that I reacted in a rather aggressive manner to this new company to my morning shower, but in hindsight, its existence was one of the things I remember most about the house. Therefore, I produced this initial piece, and later a larger series of modrock figurines, adorned with glitter and metallic spray paints, they barely resemble that funghi from many years ago, but alas these are my homage.