Salt Pans

From above, the salt pans of Missolonghi in Greece resolve into something between cartography and dream — pale geometries traced by water and sun, a landscape suspended between what it was and what it is becoming. This is a place stitched into my own history, a homeland held in the body as much as in memory. The pans work by patience, not force. Seawater is drawn in and left to still, and over weeks the sun does what nothing else can — draws away the excess, until only salt remains: dense, luminous, essential. Nothing is manufactured here. Everything is revealed, the way clarity is revealed, by allowing what does not serve to depart. There is a hush across these fields that is not emptiness but concentration — a passion held so still it becomes structure. I think of the mind working the same way: crowded, restless, until stillness is permitted long enough for the necessary to separate from the superfluous, crystal from water, signal from noise. This collection is my meditation on that alchemy — salt as inheritance, as labour, as metaphor. Each canvas is an aerial view not only of a landscape I carry within me, but of a process I believe in: that what is essential does not need to be added. It only needs to be allowed to remain.