In hindsight (which is where I'm writing from), this homesickness was all a bit short lived. Big decisions came out of it, and I find myself quite literally in a completely different place... although, the temperature is the same. I.e. it's cold, my feet are freezing.

I made these works almost two years ago (from the point of view of when I'm writing now). I had just moved into a studio in Lewisham Arthouse, I'd graduated from my MFA the summer before and I was gearing up to go on residency in Hong Kong with HKBU. I remember the doubt and the fear of feeling in between everything, I felt like even the new work I was making - this work - wasn't new at all. It was antique, it was stagnant, it had woodworm. I remember wondering then whether it was time for me to leave London. I remember worrying about 'the conventional life': I think part of me must have wondered if perhaps I might actually want that, whilst another part feared that it was coming for me regardless...