These sculptures symbolically deconstruct and reconstruct home, alluding to both personal narratives and those of communities facing displacement due to violence. They speak to a yearning for a place, time, and people to belong to. Once we leave home, we can never rebuild it in its original form. This is especially true in the stories of migrants, who have to create new homes and meaningful relationships in the face of opposition and difference.
Built from twigs, the broken and discarded bits of trees that have been cut from their support system, the objects call to mind scaffolding and other provisional structures. I use mostly birch, a tree native to Ireland; though, known for its resilience and adaptability, birch can flourish anywhere. Twine, in this work, embodies an innate desire to repair and bridge distances, physically, emotionally, and metaphorically. These fragile and vulnerable sculptures present an amalgam of form and aesthetic, broken, repaired, replaced, and reassembled in hybrid configurations. Like a drawing in and of space, they have no mass, weight, or density. They simply imply the husks of an object that no longer exists.