Forlorn | by Bri Vermeer
My experience is that my family functions first and foremost as a unit of grief and remembrance.
We are “verloren hoop” : the advance guard.
A lost, forlorn heap.
My work makes monuments of sentimental items: this knitted, patchwork blanket — crafted years ago by my Oma Vermeer-Honingh — holds memories, experience, and age within its knots. Large-scale oil paintings situate it within an ambiguously rendered environment while small prints and tiny watercolour paintings crafted as detailed tokens, serve as a reminder that it is not necessarily the place that provides meaning, but the memories of the space you carry with you.
We are “verloren hoop” : the advance guard.
A lost, forlorn heap.
My work makes monuments of sentimental items: this knitted, patchwork blanket — crafted years ago by my Oma Vermeer-Honingh — holds memories, experience, and age within its knots. Large-scale oil paintings situate it within an ambiguously rendered environment while small prints and tiny watercolour paintings crafted as detailed tokens, serve as a reminder that it is not necessarily the place that provides meaning, but the memories of the space you carry with you.
