A Love Letter to Home

My practice involves touch—textures layered by hand, and then rubbed away, leaving behind remnants. It is in this transference that I project myself into the space and capture this relationship between myself and home.

Ella Simkin Two — My Bedroom Wall. I watch the 4pm light pass across my bedroom wall as the sun lowers itself in the sky. This dizzying feeling is transferred from photocopy to fabric—creating frozen remnants of where the light let itself in and rippled its rays onto the paint.

Ella Simkin Floorboards — Welcome Home. The floorboards sit as a welcome mat, scuffed, scratched, and rippled in places, taking all the wear and tear from my daily life underfoot.

Ella Simkin Drawings — Photographs of drawings in the space they were drawn.

The daily is an unapparent yet unhidden part of existence—a soft murmur that is all around us. Forgettable as individual actions, yet they anchor us, making up the basis of who we are. To bathe, to lounge, to rest; home can be seen in the routines, rituals, and creature comforts that every one of us falls into.

Ella Simkin Seven — What Happens When Nothing Happens?

I have given everyday life a tongue to speak, through photography, drawing, model making, fabric work, collage, and painting. The work then looks to correspond with the public, asking them to consider their own dialogue with home, using my own experience as an example.

Ella Simkin Eleven — Installations: Private gone Public.

Home can be seen as a container for everyday life being lived—housing these everyday happenings, finding an equanimity in the isolated moments that are often experienced in silence. For it is in my interactions with home that the space moves away from being static; home becomes a verb, rather than a noun that resides within four walls.