

Home is anywhere you lay your head 2025
Artist Statement
My practice explores the intersection of migration, motherhood, and belonging through a personal visual language that translates ancestral knowledge into contemporary form. Working across painting, textile, and sculptural relief, I construct what I describe as a living archive of sanctuary — spaces where memory, identity, and care coexist.
The red ground serves as the chromatic foundation of my work. It operates as an emotional architecture, symbolising the maternal body, protection, and the quiet labour of nurture. This red is not merely aesthetic; it is a site of remembrance — a generative space from which stories emerge and healing begins.
Central to my visual vocabulary is the ìlá, the linear motif derived from traditional scarification practices. Within its original cultural context, the ìlá defines lineage and belonging — it is the mark that declares where one is from. In my practice, it extends beyond cultural specificity to articulate a universal language of identity and survival. Positioned across the eyes or body, it becomes both a sign of visibility and a trace of what endures — the marks, both seen and unseen, that define human resilience. The ìlá thus functions as a conceptual bridge between the personal and the collective, the ancestral and the contemporary.
The yellow halo recurs as a symbolic counterpoint — a luminous threshold denoting sanctuary, vulnerability, and spiritual safety. It acts as a site of renewal, situating the maternal experience within a cosmology of care. Together, these recurring symbols — red ground, ìlá, and halo — create a visual lexicon through which stories are not only told but felt.
Materially, my process is rooted in the tactile and intuitive. I work primarily with acrylic on primed canvas, layering pigment and figurative narratives to transmit oral stories through visual language. This approach seeks to redefine how oral traditions can inhabit the modern realm, transforming gesture into acts of remembrance. Each brushstroke becomes a pulse of emotion — a meditative rhythm that mirrors breath, memory, and the echoes of voices, chants, and ritual. The painted surface operates as both skin and scripture, holding traces of what has been spoken, endured, and reimagined.
