Words by Hilary Hermann:
This body of work is a portrait of my home. My home is a private space brimmed full of collections and memories. It is eclectic and pell-mell, a snug haunt offering of both shelter and retreat.
I like to organize my space, sweeping, decluttering, rehanging, papers blown asunder by the breeze – meanwhile allowing the hairy old dog to secretly chew it’s bone on woven rugs and the restless chickens to roost on the corner of the couch – a daily egg and non-house trained behaviors.
I see my home as following the same rhythm as my painting process; considered, rambling, ever in flux, and not particularly obeying rules but pursuing a personal aesthetic.
My father’s cedar roll-top desk; artworks by my friends; obscure objects collected over many decades; gold-encrusted Russian icons, bark paintings; the first drawings of my daughter. Flowers in gifted vases; fruit, vegetables and herbs laying in an array of assorted bowls. Cobwebs in every corner and the elusive Tawny Frog Mouths taking shelter on my easel. All a part of my day.
I see my home as a rambling history, with visible and invisible, connections. In this space is my mother’s glance, my father’s presence, memories of friends past and present, creatures and their abundant songs… so much joy and today the sound of rain. A place to keep the madness and devils away.. Keep the cruel and mean and thoughtless away..
Sanctuary of most, if possible …………