The bathroom is akin to TS Eliot’s ‘still point of the turning world’.
Surrendering the body to the water and to lying, looking out at the passing clouds or the cobalt night, with candles and time to reflect, represents a coming home to the more fluid nature of an inner cogitation and picture making.
On the walls are the small conversations and small clay creations of the early years in this home. The sentiment and character of each of the inhabitants is obvious. This is the being still room.
I kept the tone of this small room as close to memory and fantasy and reverie as I could. Water and warmth and time to let go belong somehow to the private, the domestic and the inner maternal act of gathering one’s forces.