Lara Davies
www.laradavies.com
@larad123
Statement:
Recently I spent six weeks living back with my mum, the longest time I’d spent at home in about 15 years. It was difficult, fitting back in to a place where I no longer had a stake, where my mum was curator of the kitchen cupboard post-its and I was a London postcode next to Sandra Poppies and Bliss Hair Salon.
Years ago when I redesigned my parents’ kitchen, I gave my mum a nice new notice board, but she never used it. I guess the cupboards were a more immediate way of keeping track of life – put the kettle on, survey the post-its.
I drunk more tea in those six weeks than I’ve ever done, and I’m a proper tea-pot at the best of times. But in the unchartered waters following my dad’s sudden death, time was measured in tea breaks, my mug an anchor to some sort of normality, to routine, and I’d find myself, cup in hand, zoning out in front of the post-its, marvelling at the unintended compositions and colour relationships, the history and networks, quotes and mantras and daily routines held in these scraps, this map of a life.
Last December when I was thrown back into valley life, me, my sister and my mum lived as a family unit in a way we hadn’t done since I was a child, and yet we immediately reverted to our roles, sibling hierarchy doesn’t miss a beat, everything’s the same and yet nothing is.
www.laradavies.com
@larad123
Statement:
Recently I spent six weeks living back with my mum, the longest time I’d spent at home in about 15 years. It was difficult, fitting back in to a place where I no longer had a stake, where my mum was curator of the kitchen cupboard post-its and I was a London postcode next to Sandra Poppies and Bliss Hair Salon.
Years ago when I redesigned my parents’ kitchen, I gave my mum a nice new notice board, but she never used it. I guess the cupboards were a more immediate way of keeping track of life – put the kettle on, survey the post-its.
I drunk more tea in those six weeks than I’ve ever done, and I’m a proper tea-pot at the best of times. But in the unchartered waters following my dad’s sudden death, time was measured in tea breaks, my mug an anchor to some sort of normality, to routine, and I’d find myself, cup in hand, zoning out in front of the post-its, marvelling at the unintended compositions and colour relationships, the history and networks, quotes and mantras and daily routines held in these scraps, this map of a life.
Last December when I was thrown back into valley life, me, my sister and my mum lived as a family unit in a way we hadn’t done since I was a child, and yet we immediately reverted to our roles, sibling hierarchy doesn’t miss a beat, everything’s the same and yet nothing is.
French Sporting Legends v2.
145 x 230cm
Oil on canvas
2022
145 x 230cm
Oil on canvas
2022