The kitchen tiles
The source material of this artwork comes from the traces left on prayer mats. I am a Muslim, and the most critical part of my faith are the 5 obligatory daily prayers. When I visit my grandparents, I see their prayer mats on the floor and I can immediately tell whether they are about to pray or have already prayed based on the folds and indents of the mat. Then my eyes shift to the bottom of the mat where their feet imprints are, and the surface which is now all worn out, evident of their constant praying and dedication. The imagery seen in this print of a prayer mat is derived from, but not copied off of the floor tiles in my grandmother’s kitchen. When I look at those tiles, I am met with a warm sense of appreciation and consideration for the tiles itself because had they not been placed in this kitchen, would I still feel at home? I think of how every morning, my grandmother is busy about preparing food for the day, looking after her family and making sure everyone is fed. Only the tiles in her kitchen really know how many steps it takes for her to make a cup of tea, cook a pot of food and bake those delicious cakes and pastries that I eagerly search for when I visit. The motions in which she inhabits the kitchen is nothing less than a ritual which has been performed a thousand times over and more. It is her keen sense of caring, dedication and habit that drives the work in the kitchen and her commitment to the prayer mat. So much so that I find myself merging these two aspects together. This print is about respect to a home that feeds love with intent, commitment and habit and it is evident in the traces left on tiles and prayer mats spanning years and generations.