In Où est Canaan?, I explore the longing for a place where arrival might finally mean belonging. Two small figures moves through a blue architectural passage toward a distant circular light. For me, they are “me and myself” — a way of picturing the search for home as a journey both through the world and within myself. Vertical structures frame the journey, suggesting columns, barriers, and thresholds. Their repetition offers a sense of direction while leaving the possibility of escape uncertain.
Water occupies the space where solid ground might be expected. The passage becomes a crossing without secure footing. I am interested in this condition: continuing toward something necessary without knowing whether it can be reached. The figures’ small scale holds that uncertainty within a space that seems to exceed their capacity to comprehend or control.
The title, “Where is Canaan?”, draws on the promise of a homeland and turns it into a question. My experience of displacement informs that question. Home can persist in memory and imagination even when returning to it is impossible, or when the place itself can no longer offer what we seek. The distant light gives longing a visible form, but its meaning remains unsettled. It may suggest refuge, remembrance, or a promise sustained by the need to believe in it.
Through layered blue and interrupted architectural forms, I hold confinement and possibility within the same passage. I leave the figures in the midst of crossing. What matters to me is the tension between the desire for safety and the uncertainty of the way forward: how we continue, and what we carry with us, when belonging remains beyond view.
Où est Canaan?
2026
Acrylic on canvas
30 × 48 in.
