|Rocke builds diminutive, narrative-rich scenes in heavy impasto. The paintings swell with varied textures, depicting intimate paused moments of domesticity. The viewer becomes voyeur as time unfurls in front of them; cooked eggs sit abandoned, a lover lies asleep, a coat awaits collection.
The work echoes the writings of Simon Armitage, Kwint, Perkins Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper and Rocke’s own chronic illness; the transforming, disorienting feeling of a trusted body becoming alien, symptoms unpredictable. Held captive by her illness for weeks, her disorientation bleeds through. Recognisable objects are presented through a distorted lens – in a sort of off-kilter familiarity. Colours over-saturate, shadows ooze and loom, texture swirls into a fuzzy haze as the world spins around you.
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