How do you capture the joyful exuberance of a specific place without geographical referents?

If I only give you colours and shapes, can you identify the island I’m thinking of?

Will you feel my home? Will you feel at home?

Straddling two worlds is an experience unique to those of us with hyphenated identities. “Jamaican-Canadian”. “Canadian-Jamaican”? Which do I put first? Which do you put first? Which clothes feel more comfortable? Which clothes do you think I look better in?

Use a colour palette taken from the cover of a “Caribbean Style” home decor book to imagine a vibrant island. Use a line in a poem to emulate a feeling of displacement. Use an image to reflect on the snippets of memory that stick with you when you leave a place: hints of colour; a smell; the sounds of tree frogs and mourning doves at night; the cadence of cars making a left turn down the street; the feel of the breeze across your shoulders.

Use A wave of longing through my body swept to peer at the definition of home for someone who is never quite rooted in either location. Consider that both places feel alien, while simultaneously feeling like they’re beckoning me (and you) home.

Use visual language to try to communicate a pressing sense of inadequacy at both tables. When always only half, how do you feel whole?

Use the image of the house, sometimes only partially completed, to make yourself at home. .

A wave of longing through my body swept, 2019. Linocut and monoprint on rice paper. 20 x 25 cm (each), installation dimensions variable.