Notes to self
I’m working towards a two-year Diploma of Visual Arts and I’m a quarter of the way through. My final conceptual work at the end of last semester was inspired by the humble sticky note. The standard, non-confrontational, Canary Yellow is recognisable the world over. Sticky notes remind us of things. They act as bookmarks and might be for shopping lists. They’re a common tool of the management consultant who boldly aims to lead an organisational transformation with sticky notes capturing actions and milestones. I use them on my bathroom mirror.
A few years ago, I felt numb and broken. I’d failed at marriage, had no sense of who I am, no idea what brought me joy, and believed that someone who obviously was doing love wrong should be sticking to relationships with cats. The only positive attributes I reckoned I had going for me was resilience, independence, and a solid sense of humour. Turns out my hyper-independence is a survival mechanism rather than a benefit. Even though my mental and emotional states have changed dramatically since then, I still have this “toxic trait”.
My bathroom sticky notes were, and still are, my tool for personal transformation. Back then, they helped me wrestle with the dirge of negative thoughts and eventually turn around my self-perception. Nowadays, they help to arrest the occasional spiral when my confidence takes a hit. Rather than being a general character rewrite, they’re scene directions that stop me from getting stuck in the worst-case.
So, I decided to recreate my sticky notes out of clay. I used air-dry clay, because it would dry in time and allow me to colour match that urgent-but-friendly, institutional yellow. I had a few breakages and a few other failed test pieces where the Posca Pen writing smeared when I applied matte medium as a protective layer. I ended up with just enough impressive replicas of my re-scripted inner monologue to adhere to the mirror with a couple of backups to spare. My handmade analog was so convincing that some of my art school peers assumed they were paper and were “astonished” to find otherwise.
Note to Self. 2025. Clay sculpture and acrylic paint, on framed mirror. 30cm x 20cm.
Artist Statement
Note to Self
Medium: clay sculpture, acrylic on framed mirror
30cm x 20cm
Aprill Enright
23 June, 2025
We speak to ourselves in passing—often harshly and carelessly. Note to Self is an invitation to reconsider the inner monologue.
This work began as a personal exercise in reframing: rewriting the quiet, corrosive thoughts I had been cycling around on. The post-it notes were a tool to reshape my beliefs. This project gave me a chance to ask, what would it mean to make those reframes permanent? What if they weren’t temporary affirmations but permanent truths?
Each clay post-it note in this work carries a reworded belief. They are sculpted by hand, then adhered to a mirror where the viewer’s own reflection becomes part of the piece. Could this be your voice too?
Interactions with Note to Self from teachers and other students.
I left a Sharpie and some blank paper sticky notes on the easel where the work was displayed and invited contributions.
What a number our own brains do on us in its misguided attempt at self-preservation. Who needs enemies when so many of our thoughts are a kind of auto immune disease, working against us, quietly keeping us back from living easier and more content lives. It’s a tragic irony.
When it comes to how we think and feel, we must be our only saviour, and that can either feel like an overwhelming responsibility or an empowering sense of control. It all depends on how you think about it.