Afloat
2024-2025
Current work in progress ‘Afloat’ is a self-portrait grounded in the present but entwined with the tangled roots of my past. By unravelling the legacy of trauma of my mother’s suicide through self-assisted photographic therapeutic healing, I aim to refocus self.
Discovering that those left behind are in turn more vulnerable to mental health issues and suicidal ideation, I found I was no exception. In response, I am exploring photographic and moving image practices to mitigate the disintegration of myself.
Exhibiting in Gallery of the Giants in Aldbourne where I grew up and along the Kennet Avon canal where I now live, has become part of my healing process. By sharing publicly, I hope to encourage conversations and feedback on the sensitive context of my work…
"How does the imagery resonate with you personally?"
" Can sharing stories of grief and loss helps in healing?"
"How do you feel about publicly sharing sensitive personal stories?"
An extract from work in progress project statement
The legacy of trauma of a family love story’s tragic ending, was that her pain became mine, defining and overshadowing our identities. Normality was suspended and post-traumatic stress dominated.
From the family home with all its ghosts, I swapped land for water to live on a narrow boat. Travelling at walking pace, immersed in nature, a transient healing nomadic life began.
This hard but simple life which she would have embraced and loved has refigured who I am and has become my ‘lifeboat’ in the chasm of her absence.
At the age of 50 I’m a decade younger than when she died. Recognising her in myself, my hair fades to grey like her ashes and on the love we had for each other as I become a woman she will never know.
Through Afloat, a series of self-portraits, I engage in an abstract conversation with my mum, telling her my story of love and healing.
“My life now is such a different shape to when you knew me. I have found a different way to live and love since you left. Warmth can be found within the harshness of life. The gentle melody of life on water connects me with nature and holds me within its peaceful embrace. Time stretches differently. This is who I have become, and I want to share it with you”.
As Mary Oliver beautifully writes, "Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift." In my journey, I’ve come to realise that the pain and loss have shaped me, and over time, I’ve discovered the gift within them.
