Last year, as I was thinking about marronnage and escape routes, what it means to run away, to escape – I started to reflect on the transient, temporary nature of life, of all the things we believe will last forever, all the experiences, the moments which make up one’s personal life story. Much of this reflection was the impetus behind my piece, ‘Really Just Passing Through’, which riffs on a common idiomatic phrase that takes on heightened resonance within our Caribbean space and which you can see here. Much of this reflection stays with me even now.
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Detail from Really Just Passing Through, 2025
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In the first instance, this piece is a personal and reflective one where I’ve written about my own journey: from the simpler times of my childhood to the more complex negotiations of adulthood: creating my own path, becoming fully engaged in the world of art and culture, womanhood on my own terms.
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I wanted this work to address that whole process of unlearning and relearning, the joys, pains, challenges, rantings of escape and the pursuit of self-actualization, fulfillment.
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However, there’s another layer or a second reading to this piece which I felt would be my response to the ongoing turbulence and geopolitical crises of our present time. There is a part of me that remains hopeful, optimistic amidst the trauma, violence, anxiety, pain and sadness. I choose to believe that even though we are caught up in one of the darkest chapters of our Human story, this chapter will not last forever.
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We are really just passing through. Life as we know it is about the cyclical, universal law, about transformation and most importantly about resilience and regeneration. Flowers will bloom again from this moment’s chaos and bloodshed.
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I’m in love with the mind and work of Arundhati Roy, and always return to her words: “Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.”
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II.
A diary entry
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Runaway
I want to
far
far
far
away
far from the people I know, this madness, run,
unfinished sentences and gestures, run,
far away from, run, this place of
broken souls
Bone and Soil III, 2025
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garbage, junkies, pushers, kids with eyes gone empty, too much coke
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back bones gone limp – too much of every god damned thing
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far away from the uncle who spends his days sleeping, nights
