My work aims to piece together the sometime confusing stories of my family history. My maternal grandmother who suffered from Alzheimer's disease inspired much of this work. I grew up listening to her tales of growing up the eldest of eight siblings in Switzerland. I was fascinated about her life and how different it was from mine. As her condition worsened, I began to consider the fact that she would take along more stories, untold stories, with her. Several years ago I was introduced to encaustic painting and began to learn its secrets. It seemed like the perfect match to what I had envisioned happening inside my grandmother's head. Certain aspects of encaustic paintings can sit on the surface, clear and distinct, such as her earliest childhood memories; others, such as her current reality were submerged and cloudy under a layer of wax. For me, it is the perfect medium to piece together the stories I've heard, the ones I remember also rather cloudily from childhood. Instantly, I was hooked on the medium, the sweet smell of beeswax melting in my studio, the forgiving nature of the surface, always malleable, always open to change. For all my years of painting big, these little paintings felt like secrets, portals to a history that stretches behind me and ahead of me. My search through old family photographs reveals something new each time I shuffle through the pile. My young grandfather posing with his brother on the beach kindles a memory of him telling me about the great-uncle I never met as a child. I see photographs of a house I've never been to but have heard about the entryway so many times I feel as if my hand has skimmed across the surface of its worn, wooden banister. Trying to recreate that sentiment in my paintings is part of the magic of my time in the studio.
To learn more about Véronique Latimer’s art, visit veroniquelatimer.com.