MOTHERLAND
Motherland is a physical and metaphorical journey through the tropics of our world and the longing for a home you've never visited. It represents a desire for belonging and the need to feel something beyond the mundane and ordinary—a constant search for excitement, interest, and difference, in order to connect with a deeper sense of self.
I grew up brown in a white world, in a place where I didn’t belong, and which made it clear I didn’t fit in. I constantly longed for deeper connections and excitement beyond the pain I knew as a child. Surrounded by the common scenes of small-town British life, with a face given to me by my ancestors from the Caribbean, I questioned where my home was. At 19 years of age, with much warning of the events but little preparation for the devastation, my mother died.
Motherless, directionless, and penniless, I was filled with an unwavering knowledge that the trajectory of my life had changed forever. An irrevocable sadness lay inside, sometimes quiet in the shadows and other times loud, angry, demanding to be heard and felt. I felt it all, exploring every crevice and nook of that pain. I needed something more than ever; I needed to find my connection, to discover where I belonged. I held an innate belief that I was not from these lands. Though I saw their moody beauty and muted landscapes, they weren't mine. I was colour and heat, the kind that burns your skin, and I longed earnestly for the brightest horizons. When my grandparents moved from the Caribbean to the 'Motherland' of England in the 1940s, they could never have imagined the harsh and cold welcome they would receive. Now, 70 years later, I stood wondering if my Motherland was more akin to the home they had left and if new lands could fill the void left by my mother's death.
Something must have connected, thinking back 12 years later, there must be some meaning. So, I did what I had to do, as the world does not end, even when it feels like your life has. I got a job, lived in a room at my best friend's parents' house, and hoped for change. As I continued with the monotony of life, a feeling of longing grew, and an old friend told me about a six-month trip to Southeast Asia she was planning. Overwhelmed by the need to escape my current environment, I invited myself on the trip.
At first, it broke me. I found myself crying in sweltering, cockroach-infested hostel rooms in Bangkok, cursing myself for ever coming. I quickly learned that running away requires more than just moving; it requires facing every aspect of your heart—the pain, the joy, the anger, and everything in between. It meant fully being present, allowing yourself to see where you are, feel the burning sun, taste the foreign smells, and embrace a new way of life. It meant letting yourself get lost to discover who you are when you meet yourself again.
This journey set in motion a ten-year period of living abroad and travelling the world—ten years of searching, longing, and finding connection in unexpected places and people. This journey has spanned countries, taken me to rainforests and deserts, emotional wreckage and near-spiritual enlightenment, and left me with the ease of existing in another world, finding peace and joy in the unknown. As I connected with different worlds, I discovered that I did belong. I belonged with people who looked like me, but also far from me; I belonged in the colour and the chaos. Through it all, I learned that my Motherland is real and is grounded deep within me. It’s the tropical shores of my Caribbean heritage, an unwavering desire for exploration, the calmness and safety of England, and the love and empowerment of my people.
Motherland is a collection that reflects upon ten years of travel, searching, running, and belonging. It is a story told through places that have impacted my life and the emotions I've experienced in these locations. Delving into the connection to my ancestors, a homeland I wasn’t born into, a world of adventures, and the love of my mother. I have created scarves and artworks that bring forth the natural world through colours from the earth. Journey through this exhibition to discover The Motherland.
THE COLLECTION
Explore the full collection below. Scroll through to discover the story behind each piece.
WILD CHROMA
This exhibition presents a kaleidoscope of colour, drawn from various parts of our natural world. To free ourselves from the constraints of fast fashion and the injustices of contemporary production, we must establish alternative ways of creating. These alternatives must be both beautiful and exciting.
Natural dyeing has been practised by indigenous peoples for thousands of years, and we owe them for preserving this beautiful art form. Although it has been largely forgotten in the West, natural dyes possess great power. Motherland was created using only natural dyes, foraged from the outdoors, collected from food waste, or sourced from ethically made pigments.
Explore this vibrant collection and marvel at the possibilities of colour and pattern that Mother Nature offers at our fingertips.
To find out more about the Wild Chroma project of natural dyes click below.
PART 1
QUIET DAWN
WILSTHIRE
Habotai silk dye and printed with onion skins, madder, eucalyptus leaves & hibiscus
In my wildest dreams, I never could have imagined starting an exhibition dedicated to exotic travels in magical lands from Wiltshire. But alas, that’s where my journey began, and so, that's where we start. Born in Leytonstone, East London, we moved to Swindon when I was around six years old. Suddenly, the vibrant colours of different cultures and the diversity of people who looked like me were replaced with the rather placid, mundane atmosphere of Swindon, in South West England. On my first day of primary school, a girl confidently announced that I was to be ignored because I was black. Thus began a story I would live for a long time—excluded and teased, bullied and brutalised for being a bird of paradise in a field of thistles.
I retreated deep within myself, thinking that if I could just hide enough of who I was, I might become small enough to belong, small enough for them to allow me in. Unsurprisingly to the adult mind, that didn’t work. I became anxious and filled with nervousness, and as my mother became more ill and my father more angry, the physical world around me felt increasingly far from home. I yearned for something beyond the life I was living. I craved excitement, magic, joy, and fulfilment, but most of all, I craved escape.
"Wiltshire" shows the muted tones of isolation and pain, with the bubbling of desire hidden beneath the surface. The moody colourways represent my beginnings in a grey town, surrounded by rolling hills that I found void of reflection of my inner being. Patterns waiting to burst through represent my longing to be myself and to find my Motherland—to discover the tropical islands I dream of, which at that time felt ever so far away.
IN FULL
BLOOM
Hand drawn screen print dyed with a mix of logwood & cochineal with iron mordant
In Full Bloom depicts the deep-rooted connection I have always had with my sister and my mother. Death did not make my mother an angel; rather, I always knew she was a beautiful entity and a force to be reckoned with. It was never death that deepened my appreciation; my adoration of my mother began at birth and will unequivocally continue for the rest of my life. Reflecting storytelling imagery found in Caribbean quilted artworks, In Full Bloom honours my mother after death by creating a coat of arms, showing how she would want- standing with my sister and myself.
Inspired by the simplicity of folk art and communication through drawings, I sought to express three intertwined entities, all originating from the same place, yet blooming in different directions. The imagery on the borders incorporates simple and bold shapes to frame and protect this connection, while delicate floral motifs are cast around the unity to add decoration and show respect.
ST. VINCENT
Habotai silk dye and printed with cochineal, madder, hibiscus & marigolds
Reflecting on what ‘Motherland’ means, ‘St. Vincent’ represents the second part of this journey. My Caribbean heritage was a constant presence in my childhood, and I felt a deep-rooted connection to a place I had never visited. With the soft West Indian accents of my grandparents, the tropical tastes of ital food, and the promise of an island filled with blazing sun and fierce rainstorms, I always longed to be in St. Vincent, the home of my grandmother.
‘St. Vincent’ features a light pink base, soft and gentle, reminiscent of childhood. Breaking through this base is a burst of colour, scattered like an explosion but not quite overwhelming the piece. ‘St. Vincent’ represents the feeling of Motherland without fully experiencing the place itself.
BLOOD ON
THE LEAVES
Screen print dyed onion skins with iron mordant
As a family, we left London to escape violently racist neighbours. As a child, I was taunted about my ethnicity for years, and as a teenager, I heard endless racist ‘jokes’ and jibes. Racism was not something I learned about; it was something I experienced far too young and far too often.
My mother, an English white woman, taught me the revolutionary history of my ancestors. She spoke of the power of my skin, the importance of embracing my curly hair, and how never to diminish myself or alter my appearance to appease a white audience. My mother showed me videos of Angela Davis, played music from the Caribbean, and took me to protests to free Nelson Mandela. Through experience and the passionate, unshakable belief my mother had in justice, I learned about the power of blackness.
‘Blood on the Leaves’ honours this power while expressing the accompanying pain. A nod to Nina Simone’s song (‘Strange Fruit’), ‘Blood on the Leaves’ depicts how my pain is intricately intertwined with a heritage of which I am immensely proud. The piece features tropical leaves raining down, surrounded by a border inspired by African textiles.