There was always a race for the last one.
Whenever I shared a bowl of prawns with my papa, peeling and eating became an unspoken game. Whoever peeled the fastest ate the most. No one ever acknowledged it, but it happened every time.
Small things, held in those quiet, in-between moments that stay with you.
This series is built from memories like these. The ordinary rituals that quietly repeated themselves over the years, without ever being named as rituals at all.
These drawings sit within the middle ground of memory. Not the landmark moments, but the ones surrounding them. The pauses. The habits. The things that once felt small, but later become the things we treasure most.
Currently exhibiting and available to purchase through Haslemere Art Society Annual Exhibition.
Original hand-drawn pen & ink
Walnut crafted frame, art glass
There was always a race for the last one.
Whenever I shared a bowl of prawns with my papa, peeling and eating became an unspoken game. Whoever peeled the fastest ate the most. No one ever acknowledged it, but it happened every time.
Small things, held in those quiet, in-between moments that stay with you.
This series is built from memories like these. The ordinary rituals that quietly repeated themselves over the years, without ever being named as rituals at all.
These drawings sit within the middle ground of memory. Not the landmark moments, but the ones surrounding them. The pauses. The habits. The things that once felt small, but later become the things we treasure most.
Currently exhibiting and available to purchase through Haslemere Art Society Annual Exhibition.
Original hand-drawn pen & ink
Walnut crafted frame, art glass
