Where the earth first touched my skin...
A medieval Moroccan traveller and modern African economic migrants on the streets of Europe. Strange companions but they were the sparks...and The Book of Journeys was born. No lofty ideals beyond socially engaged art - our journey was only in its embryonic stages then. An installation examining just one of the push factors driving economic migrants across the seas and deserts in search of a better life.
The question we posed ourselves was this: where did the trinket sellers come from and why? A short conversation answered the first one, but they were more circumspect on the second. Europe offered the potential of money, and of hope. And they often dragged themselves through incredible hardships to get there. Perilous journeys across desert and sea, often to be greeted by the local gendarmes and a return to whence they had come. Some try many times, some only once. And the tales of the returners does not deter any hopefuls. The possibilities are too precious to ignore. When one is surrounded by poverty then risk becomes irresistible.
Where the earth first touched my skin
An old man and the sea
The question we posed ourselves was this: where did the trinket sellers come from and why? A short conversation answered the first one, but they were more circumspect on the second. Europe offered the potential of money, and of hope. And they often dragged themselves through incredible hardships to get there. Perilous journeys across desert and sea, often to be greeted by the local gendarmes and a return to whence they had come. Some try many times, some only once. And the tales of the returners does not deter any hopefuls. The possibilities are too precious to ignore. When one is surrounded by poverty then risk becomes irresistible.
Where the earth first touched my skin
An old man and the sea
