Growing up in Trinidad I would marvel at the colonial style buildings built in the 1900s which were known as the “Magnificent Seven”. These building were dotted around our biggest hang out park in the capital of Port of Spain, called the Savannah.
Though these large mansions had European charm it was the old plantation homes that intrigued me and was what I painted when I was sixteen. I remembered taking pictures with my old Kodak camera asking my parents to pull the car over once I had spotted one of these crooked dilapidated homes. The thin rustic louvres, the wooden filigree fretwork, rusty old latches and the flaky bits of paint on the doors held in place by cobwebs got my attention. There was mysterious energy in the air and a sense of melancholy too. These textured images are engraved in my mind and to this day I still photograph them. This time with a proper camera in hand!
“It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see”Henry David Thoreau
“Red bucket lady” (top left) was painted when I was 16 and is still hanging in my family home. The images at the top of the page are new abstract paintings in my sketchbook, exploring textures and weathered surfaces.
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