In my last blog, When Life and Subject Intertwine, I mentioned my insistent focus on drawing the fog alarm building on Saturna Island, despite my intention to focus on the landscape surrounding this hut. It was almost as if I had little control over my direction. But Why? Why, do I have so little control over my work's direction? Why is my subconscious insistent in taking my work in the directions it does?
With each series I undertake, particularly if the series involves some form of architectural study, I am being taken on a parallel study into my own life. Every one of these series, investigates an element of me; an event in my life, an aspect of my life, my family history. I am never fully aware, where, or why a series will take me in this direction, until a series is fully on its way, or sometimes, until it is developed completely. I have learned to trust my instincts.
In the case of the Saturna series, I suspected early, that my focus on the fog alarm building had something to do with the imminent trip I was making to Australia. It had been seven years since my last visit. I was not born in Canada. I grew up in Perth, Western Australia. My parents and sisters still live there to this day. I began working on the Saturna series before I left. I continued immediately once I returned. My focus on the depicting the fog alarm building, has everything to do with my processing this journey. Something about the simplicity of the hut's form, Its clean lines, its almost childlike naivety, was forcing me to look at the concept of home, and what it means to me. It was also forcing me to process the emotional turmoil my return trip could, and indeed would, bring to the foreground.
Thus far, my Saturna series has evolved into ten, large scale depictions of a small, simple form building, awash in atmospheric backgrounds.