Homelessness is loosely defined as the condition of not having a “regular dwelling.” According to Gaston Bachelard’s phenomenological study of space, the home is inexorably linked to dreaming and poetry, as is the soul. What happens to a being without a home to dream in? During a time when homelessness has increased drastically due to foreclosures and low employment rates, I examine the home I live in now as well as the homes of my grandparents through painting and short stories.  As Bachelard states, "the oneirically definitive house must retain its shadows” hence the relatively dark palette and the limited value range. To me, color is a universal language and a preeminent aspect of visual communication.

(Sources Wikipedia and Gaston Bachelard’s The Poetics of Space)