"Most of the time we don't know ourselves, we don't know who we are, but obviously one of the functions of an epiphany is that you so suddenly have yourself in a much richer way than normal. You come to yourself at the very moment where you meet the world."

Timothy Hyman July 1996 (interview with Medina Hammad)

These collected works reflect a "coming to" with my interests, both as an individual and as a painter. I make paintings, which could be termed as autobiographical - narrative compositions, which are derived from real moments and experiences.

I am intrigued by the difference between interpreting an occurrence and describing it. The former often involves a lengthy process of reflection and consideration. The event is edited and filtered down. I try to find the most intensive, concentrated means of representing a moment. During the act of remembering the scene alters. The focus shifts, some material is lost, some imagery intensifies as it takes on greater relevance.

I have just emerged from a period of intensive postgraduate study. As part of my quest to develop my painting and understanding of it, I sought out other, specifically self reflective painters. The activity raised further questions, rather than providing more answers. However, I think that study has revealed items for consideration which help me with the process of making work. What I have leamt is to have faith in not moving too far away from who I am and what I want to say. Also, that my stories and messages should lead my language, but never constrain it - and finally to have the confidence to live within my painting.

I chose to make work about myself because ultimately it is all I have. I have no idea why we are here, why we function the way we do. What I do know is that I am thankful to have the medium of painting to capture the fleeting glimpses of understanding that are afforded during a lifetime.

Many of the experiences recorded in this body of work relate to my family and cultural identity. The story that I repeatedly return to is that of my father. He came from Sudan at the age of eighteen and made a life for himself in Europe. In 1959 he obtained British Nationality, prompted by my Uncle Yousef's arrival and "threat to take him home!" He never went back. My mother met him at the no 74 bus stop, at Hyde Park Corner. He repeatedly pestered her to have coffee with him and eventually cinched a date by an impressive leap off a moving double decker. He loved Europe, but his life was a paradox, too Arab to be English, too English to ever be completely Sudanese again. To my shame I never fully comprehended his dilemma during his lifetime. He held us close to, but, far apart. When we lost him a few years ago many unanswered questions still nagged.

I was fortunate to be asked to exhibit in Khartoum, in 1995. Whilst many of his secrets remained undisclosed I felt closer to him than I had done in years. My understanding had come full circle. The sights and sounds and smells of Omdurman defined him so clearly it was overwhelming. He used to tell me in particular about watching 'Zar' when he was a child. My grandmother Raylea played an active part in this eastern female ritual. A strange, fascinating group catharsis which involves trance like state and dancing. I see now, how this contributed to his own spiritual interests, formed much later on in his life. I drove past the Blue Nile Cinema, where he bought one ticket which was passed out of the toilet window to his waiting friends. They watched Flash Gordon and Emperor Ming, who gave them nightmares. He described the trees, the Nile, the British Troops, the immigrant Greeks but not how he felt, what it was like to be Sudanese. This work explores all of this.

My painting is my catharsis - self exploratory work does not often form a conclusion, more of a realisation of simply how things are.

Medina Hammad 1998