I’ve always felt it was best to keep things simple. So simply put this is a series about what it feels like going and coming home.
Painted in 2021 over two weekends, each after a visit to the town I grew up in, to the neighbourhood I lived in since the age of two. Both my parents had covid, and my mother was in hospital for over 2 weeks. My dad went in briefly as well. Days, minutes, and hours, spent on those broad tar roads I grew up on. The submergence into a previous life. Another lifetime.
And then coming home, to nature, to the friends I love, to the earth. And painting.
Painting with ink, with jars of water. Pouring both onto the paper and moving. Drying and layering. Big broad strokes as I move my arms. In black and in white, and in soft sepia tones of the past and of the forest. The piecing together of a story.
These are the questions I have asked myself: Where is your home? What does it feel like? How did you get there, when did you decide to leave? Is home a space, a person, a ray of sun, a stream of light?