Gentle Work / City Gallery / March 14 – April 25, 2025
artist statement
This project started several years ago during a trip when I was missing home and my family. I wanted to capture what my family was like then and also reflect on how time keeps moving and changing. I wanted to create something that could hold all of that – the passage of time, my family’s story, and the process itself.
Creating this piece was a big shift for me. I had always worked small, using simple compositions, but I felt like I needed to make something bigger – more complex. I also wanted to be open about the process, not just show the finished piece, but the ups and downs that came with it.
Then in 2019, I was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome/Myalgic Encephalitis (CFS/ME). I had to put my art on hold for a while and rethink how I could create with my new limitations. Instead of trying to push through, I started showing up in small ways – sometimes just opening my sketchbook or making a few marks when I could. It took time, but I learned to trust that even in stillness, I would keep returning to my work.
Writing also became a key part of this journey. I started jotting down reflections – condensing bits of wisdom I picked up along the way and placing them in my sketchbook next to inspiring quotes. These thoughts became integral to my process. Writing helped me connect my experiences to my art, gave voice to the vulnerabilities I was navigating, and reminded me of wisdom that resonated with me.
As my energy levels changed, my art continued to adapt to its fluctuations. I experimented with different techniques, stripping away complexity, using less colour, and switching to pencil on paper when work needed to be simpler. Sometimes I couldn’t be in the studio or even at my desk. I had to find ways to create from bed. These pieces reflect the flexibility and simplicity that was needed – learning to make art within the boundaries of my body’s limitations. Through this process, I realized that my art is really more about the journey than the final art piece. It’s about showing up, playing, and letting emotions flow naturally. And if things don’t go perfectly, that’s okay – an artist once told me that making “bad” work is like compost; the mistakes help the work grow.
Now, I finally feel like I have the tools to return the larger piece that started all of this. It feels like a full circle moment. I’m going back to that work, but with a gentler approach that better matches where I am now.