No Place Like Home
"Every time I go home, the potatoes in my mother's cupboard are sprouting."
Masked by a deceptive simplicity, the complexities of this statement haunt me. Its subtle implications capture the concept of this developing series of work: that I am no longer home and I feel a sadness and longing for a place that no longer exists. It constitutes my perpetual struggle to recreate or represent a notion of home, the anxiety of living up to family expectations and the tension I experience in my displacement and disjuncture.
The tension is something I am particularly interested in exploring because it is the different aspects of that which consume me. It emphasizes the strained relationships: growth despite nurture, or despite oppressive nurture, and my constant seeking of approval and acceptance. Then there is the tension of the gap of where I am from and where I am now—both physically and personally.