Here’s what you want. 

Creatively I have two outlets; one of these is art making, the other is writing and performing stand-up comedy. Taking comedy seriously has become a surprising and integral part of my process during the last two years. These practices can sometimes feel like a seemingly disparate shopping list for a recipe with superficially unrelated ingredients; a recipe that theoretically sounds like it will not be delicious, but could potentially just surprise you by *actually* tasting good.
Contextually I am smashing together an assortment of outwardly unconnected ideas, questions, and theoretical and material concepts in an attempt to visually and performatively interrogate the absurd space left between them, which is revealed and exposed in the process. This space, that is sometimes uncomfortable and strange to inhabit, is where I attempt to lead my audience. By combining visual art making, performance art and stand-up comedy, I am hurtling towards a Venn diagram of absurdity, and in this I feel like I am squeezing the three practices ever closer together. Through this lens, and a materially object-based and performative dialogue I am considering attachment and what we apply meaning to in a search for belonging. 
Frequently, the attempts I make to inhabit these different areas of research at the same time gesture towards the melancholic, as things become almost…but never quite enough. This may feel like something of a downer; however to me, it feels like a way of moving forward. The by-product of lacking within the combined mediums bridges the more serious side of my practice with mischief making and absurdity. I can legitimately make works that are fun, and/or funny, whilst still saying something important. In fact, the use of comedy within my practice gives me a sense of freedom and confidence to expose something far more vulnerable. Tragedy and comedy are so often bedfellows; humour is a coping mechanism that strongly roots and unites us as human beings. I feel that using my comedic practice directly as a tool within the art making process, places me, not only within an unusual dialogue, but awards me a unique opportunity to straddle the void in the centre of my personal Venn diagram. 
During this two-year immersion in research and practice, dialogue, language and text within and surrounding my work have become equally as important as the visual output; in many cases becoming the work itself. 
First, there are two problems. 
Love, love, love ... 
last year, 
some friends, some problems 
Here is Christ 
I don't know 
It looks like 
This is true 
Three friends 
But tell the truth 
We believe. 
This security program. 
America and Park 
Your phone 
The answer is important. 
Cancer of the cancer 
Notice this way 
I know 
Here's what you want.
 A collaborative poem on artistic process, by Kimi Tayler and Google Translate