“A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one’s suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.”


‘Trees are sanctuaries’ Herman Hesse 


This personal series uses my mother to to explore the complexity of motherhood and family relationships, personal identity, and the inevitability of loss. The work is an ongoing search for Home, for a place to belong, and reflects on the historical impact of immigration and what it means to be bound by blood and a common history.

Using Format