As the pandemic continued, piles of objects and papers migrated around my flat, following my living patterns, making it feel like a slowly evolving landscape. The solid boundary between interior and exterior space, which I had previously taken for granted, began to feel fragile and transient, a thin membrane between myself and the outside world. The bookshelf seemed like a significant landmark in this landscape, a bit like a rock face.

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I wanted to draw the flow of space between interior and exterior, as well as the small, quiet observations I made within my home.

Small observations such as, suddenly noticing the sun glinting on the window…

the slice of space between window and frame, the blind chain blowing in the wind…

the shadows beneath wires…

or my eye resting upon very banal things like the remnants of Christmas wrapping paper.

I hope all the small observations within the wider space encourage the viewer to plot their own route through the depicted space, and to gradually discover a record of how I’ve been living in this space as they do so.

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