Oceania is my natural habitat… at times, I am overwhelmed with longing.
I think of the ocean often.
I remember the feeling of belonging, of breathing warm air and feeling my feet touching the ground and feeling secure. Grounded.
Suva rain and softened earth
In between heaven and here
My heart… beats… home
I am the Ocean
Not visiting. Not searching.
She is my rhythm and I am her soul.
I see myself in people and smiles. I feel myself in spaces between
[I am a Fijian in silence]
The smell of collecting is intoxicating.
Noble. Memories. Frozen.
A History of Colonial Encounter.
Objects boxed, cased, pinned. Mana dissected.
In traces of silvery residue, I see slivers of my past.
Interrogating memory / loss
Eyes and tattooed mouths
Fingers and hands
She crafts inky dreams
Painting in the gaps of our mixed genealogy
Anchored by new roots
Diaspora distorts colonisation
Tradition and a new transmission
The economic burden and first world sacrifice
Facebook family and a digital constitution
In language and behind eyes
I am your anger
In signs and knotted hair
In blood and sweat
You are my limits and my potential
I am filled with your journey
An agent of future souls
This is an experimental piece of writing by Ema Tavola developed for the exhibition catalogue of Concealed Ancestors – A solo exhibition by Margaret Aull