CONTENTS
Artwork
· Linocuts
· Sculptures
· Paintings
· Films
· Embroidery
· Zines
· Monoprints
Other
· Events
· Exhibitions
· Performances
ABOUT
Freya Mears is a London/Bristol based artist and curator.
She is currenty studying Liberal Arts at the University of Bristol.
She has a particular interest in social practice, curating, educational psychology and art therapy.
She wants to spend her life creating, educating, and collaborating.
In 2021 she completed an Art Foundation Diploma (Distinction) at City and Guilds of London Art School.
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CONTACT for Purchase Enquiries
Freya Mears
Email: freyamears100@gmail.com
instagram: @pigeontehe
Freya Mears
Email: freyamears100@gmail.com
instagram: @pigeontehe
Home
Prints
Linocuts
To be Free / 2022
30.5 x 40.5cm
Linocut on paper
Current location. Get me home.
It’s this city.
A lost pigeon.
A lost soul.
Things will be different this time.
It’s this city.
A lost pigeon.
A lost soul.
Things will be different this time.
Pigeon in limbo.
Trapped limbs.
Lack of ambition.
no, Trapped ambition.
So many limes
But no garden.
Alone and Free.
Delectable divinity.
Trapped limbs.
Lack of ambition.
no, Trapped ambition.
So many limes
But no garden.
Alone and Free.
Delectable divinity.
30.5 x 40.5cm
Linocut on paper
Plinky Plinky Plonk / 2022
20 x 28.5cm
Linocut on paper
My partner in crime, its her birthday. Of course I’m making her a lino.
Plinky Plinky Plonk
(green queen)/ 2022
20 x 28.5cm
Can I Borrow Your Lighter? / 2021 82 x 59.5cm
Linocut on paper
“Every time I see a couple of pigeons I think it’s us,” I told her this morning.
“And when there’s more, I wonder who’s with us.”
That night, with the day’s leftovers fizzing in our brains, we three artists head to Tesco, to buy drinks to consume on Cleavers Square.
By the exit, five pigeons congregate
“That’s us three.” I laugh, “I guess we’ll be joined by two others tonight.”
“And when there’s more, I wonder who’s with us.”
That night, with the day’s leftovers fizzing in our brains, we three artists head to Tesco, to buy drinks to consume on Cleavers Square.
By the exit, five pigeons congregate
“That’s us three.” I laugh, “I guess we’ll be joined by two others tonight.”
Together we make the holy blem.
The girls are rolled and ready
But, cue the frantic rummaging.
Cig behind ear, and he’s nowhere to be seen.
She’s left with no choice but to approach the neighbouring bench.
“Can I borrow your lighter?” she asks.
And with that coo, three pigeons did indeed become five. I guess I’ve found my spirit animal.
The girls are rolled and ready
But, cue the frantic rummaging.
Cig behind ear, and he’s nowhere to be seen.
She’s left with no choice but to approach the neighbouring bench.
“Can I borrow your lighter?” she asks.
And with that coo, three pigeons did indeed become five. I guess I’ve found my spirit animal.
Lockdown Nightmare /202183 x 59.5cm
Linocut on kozo paper
We have the opportunity to rebuild a society.
I’ll show this print to my grandchildren when they ask what lockdown was like.
I’ll show this print to my grandchildren when they ask what lockdown was like.
Even in a global pandemic there are teeth to be brushed, hair to be cut and windows to be cleaned. Why have our dreams intensified?
Nature come closer, invade my space.
Nature come closer, invade my space.
You Must be Desperados to Drink This /2021
30 x 42cm
Linocut on paper
30 x 42cm
Linocut on paper
Fuck off /2021
10 x 15cm (no border)
Linocut on paper
10 x 15cm (no border)
Linocut on paper
I’m so glad you got ugly /2021
15 x 20cm
Linocut on paper
Rona let me dance /2020
29 x 20cm
Linocut on paper
Storyteller, Football Fan, Looks Up /2021
19 x 24cm
Linocut on paper
Linocut on paper
Prints
The Tunnel Series
This is the story of a young woman, returning to childhood.
First, she must dig.
She finds frog’s letters
And remembers “all the happy times.”
She hears him coming home,
The sound of the key in the lock.
“You have the most wicked of laughs” he said.
She hardly recognises the face he sees at the door.
“I love the stories you tell at meal times.”
She is bound to remember the Sunday incision.
“You are always very gentle with them”
She feels the touch of his hand.
First, she must dig.
She finds frog’s letters
And remembers “all the happy times.”
She hears him coming home,
The sound of the key in the lock.
“You have the most wicked of laughs” he said.
She hardly recognises the face he sees at the door.
“I love the stories you tell at meal times.”
She is bound to remember the Sunday incision.
“You are always very gentle with them”
She feels the touch of his hand.
“It was as if the kite was alive”
She will always feel close to him there.
“You’re a natural water baby” he said
She’s not drowning, but waving.
“Your first adult tune”
She leaves school early to play for him.
He was always “playing the bongos”
The beckoning beat echoes the past.
The house filled up with flowers.
The Tunnel/2021
Poetry
She will always feel close to him there.
“You’re a natural water baby” he said
She’s not drowning, but waving.
“Your first adult tune”
She leaves school early to play for him.
He was always “playing the bongos”
The beckoning beat echoes the past.
The house filled up with flowers.
The Tunnel/2021
Poetry
Let the performance begin /2021
21.5 x 28.5cm
Charcoal and chalk on paper
MonoPrints
The jam jar /2021
14 x 20.5cm
Monoprint
They met in the tunnel /2021
48 x 37cm
Monoprint
Revenge /2021
32 x 48cm
Soft Ground Etching
`Coming Home series /2021
14 x 20cm
Monoprints
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Cremation /2021
17.5 x 24cm
Monoprint
14 x 20cm
Monoprints
Cremation /2021
17.5 x 24cm
Monoprint
Left: You only die once /2021 18 x 25cm
Right: Frog plays piano /2021 17.5 x 24cm
Monoprints
Although he is gone.
She is not alone.
There’s a child there too.
She tells the young woman she has kept watch over the tunnel for the past ten years.
They share a common language.
They know it comes in waves.
She is not alone.
There’s a child there too.
She tells the young woman she has kept watch over the tunnel for the past ten years.
They share a common language.
They know it comes in waves.
They find the moving images
And hear the sound of his voice.
High days and holy days
But the every day is lost.
She finds comfort in the knowledge, he knew her so well.
She still has his letters.
And hear the sound of his voice.
High days and holy days
But the every day is lost.
She finds comfort in the knowledge, he knew her so well.
She still has his letters.
Her time has come to take over as tunnel protector.
The girl and her memories are absorbed into the surrounding soil.
Meanwhile a woman with the same name will live above ground, filling the soil with new encounters.
Ten Years from now this woman will enter the tunnel. She will find the young woman there.
Together they will witness a future as yet unwritten.
The girl and her memories are absorbed into the surrounding soil.
Meanwhile a woman with the same name will live above ground, filling the soil with new encounters.
Ten Years from now this woman will enter the tunnel. She will find the young woman there.
Together they will witness a future as yet unwritten.
The Tunnel/2021
Poetry
Paintings
‘While she wrestled him on the hill,
the badgers, the horses, the sheep
worked away shovelling
their hearts into the landscape.’
Extract from The Overwhelming Urge
from Ella Frears’ Shine, Darling Poetry Anthology.
Acrylic and oil pastel
on paper
Shovelling Their Hearts /2020
29.5 x 40cm
Acrylic and oil pastel on paper
29.5 x 40cm
Acrylic and oil pastel on paper
Her words evoke harmony and joy; with physical, fleshy characters.
Here I depict the unconventional love between mother nature and her horse.
Here I depict the unconventional love between mother nature and her horse.
The Overwhelming Urge /2020
60 x 42.5
Acrylic and oil pastel on paper
60 x 42.5
Acrylic and oil pastel on paper
Their playful souls meet in the landscape: miraculous and all consuming.
Energetic with a thick heart.
Energetic with a thick heart.
Do they shovel in hatred?
Moments of violence defend embarrasment and shame.
Moments of violence defend embarrasment and shame.
Oil on Panel
The Aftermath /2020
60 x 40cm
Oil on panel
A revolt ensues and her horse is murdered.
Mother nature, our queen, is heartbroken as she wades through the water carrying her lover’s head.
Oil Pastel on Paper
Red Monster /2021
29 x 38.5 cm
Oil pastel on oil paper
29 x 38.5 cm
Oil pastel on oil paper
Brandon Hill /2022
29.5 x 21cm
Oil pastel on paper
Acrylic on Paper
Jesus Loves You /2021
59 x 85cm
Acrylic on paper
Watercolour/
Ink
The Aftermath Preliminary drawing
24.5 x 19.5cm
Ink on paper
Left: The child within /2021 11 x 18cm
Right: The boy who didn’t have a friend /2021 9 x 14cm
Digital /
Acrylic on paper
Hark! Our Lady
(A Modern day nativity)
Cradling her baby.
She’s insta famous now
Gotta phone notta bible
God,
She’s suckin’ and sellin’ weight loss lollies.
12 months later,
Her 15 minutes of fame
Are hanging on the wall.
(A Modern day nativity)
Cradling her baby.
She’s insta famous now
Gotta phone notta bible
God,
She’s suckin’ and sellin’ weight loss lollies.
12 months later,
Her 15 minutes of fame
Are hanging on the wall.
Our Lady of Lewisham Revisited /2020
Three Digital Paintings
Left: Our Lady of Lewisham /2019
69 x 48.5cm
Right: Drainspotting /2020
69 x 48.5cm
Acrylic on paper
69 x 48.5cm
Right: Drainspotting /2020
69 x 48.5cm
Acrylic on paper
Oil On Canvas
Fear of Falling (2020)
130 x 138cm
Oil on canvas
130 x 138cm
Oil on canvas
What is love?
It lies somewhere between the chair and the toilet.
Hold my back.
What is fear?
Persistent, like a gun to the head.
It lies somewhere between the chair and the toilet.
Hold my back.
What is fear?
Persistent, like a gun to the head.
She is mentally strong but physically weak.
The woman who made you victoria sponge.
A lover of London Pie.
How could she know she would later call it home?
The woman who made you victoria sponge.
A lover of London Pie.
How could she know she would later call it home?
Last Supper /2020
129 x 118cm
Oil on canvas
Ello Gan Gan,
Would you like to come
to your dream meal?
Here I view food as a timeline for memory, religion and betrayal.
Would you like to come
to your dream meal?
Here I view food as a timeline for memory, religion and betrayal.
The Way Through the Woods /2019
120 x 160cm
Oil, acrylic and paper on canvas
‘The Way Through the Woods’, 1910: Rudyard Kipling :
‘They shut the road through the woods
Seventy years ago.
Weather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted the trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath,
And the thin anemones.
Only the keeper sees
That, where the ring-dove broods,
And the badgers roll at ease,
There was once a road through the woods.
Yet, if you enter the woods
Of a summer evening late,
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
Where the otter whistles his mate,
(They fear not men in the woods,
Because they see so few.)
You will hear the beat of a horse’s feet,
And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes,
As though they perfectly knew
The old lost road through the woods…
But there is no road through the woods.’
‘They shut the road through the woods
Seventy years ago.
Weather and rain have undone it again,
And now you would never know
There was once a road through the woods
Before they planted the trees.
It is underneath the coppice and heath,
And the thin anemones.
Only the keeper sees
That, where the ring-dove broods,
And the badgers roll at ease,
There was once a road through the woods.
Yet, if you enter the woods
Of a summer evening late,
When the night-air cools on the trout-ringed pools
Where the otter whistles his mate,
(They fear not men in the woods,
Because they see so few.)
You will hear the beat of a horse’s feet,
And the swish of a skirt in the dew,
Steadily cantering through
The misty solitudes,
As though they perfectly knew
The old lost road through the woods…
But there is no road through the woods.’
Poetry by heart.
Take me to the next round.
If I can’t perform it, I’ll paint it.
En plein air, easel in the forest.
Man and nature, like the mad artist I’m becoming.
Take me to the next round.
If I can’t perform it, I’ll paint it.
En plein air, easel in the forest.
Man and nature, like the mad artist I’m becoming.
Films
&
Film Stills
The Tunnel /2021
Charcoal stop motion animation
The Tunnel /2021
Film stills
Accompanied by The Tunnel monoprint series
Pigeon Muse /2021A Mears and Maclennan short film
Pigeon Muse /2021
Film stills
(inc watercolour background paintings and ceramic sculptures)
A Life in Lockdown /2020
Spoken word film
A personal response to a global pandemic.
Maskman dramatises
all the thoughts and frustrations of my first lockdown experience.
Maskman dramatises
all the thoughts and frustrations of my first lockdown experience.
What is Art? / 2020
A Mears and Maclennan film
A Mears and Maclennan film
With energy and curiousity, this film witnesses the birth of a creative partnership between Freya Mears and Bronwen Maclennan.
Two art students attempt to answer the question:
What is Art?
Art comes from the pain and discomfort of the creative process.
What is Art?
Art comes from the pain and discomfort of the creative process.
