Dear Homeseeker,

Where is home? A question I’ve never answered. Grandma’s side porch with a glass of ice tea. Back seat of dad’s Oldsmobile running late to school. The living room where you watched news of wars. Mom’s lap when you had a cold or flu. Your best friend’s backyard during summer break. Grandpa’s warm hand at father daughter dance. Clothes you grabbed when you escaped a storm. Birthday presents from your favorite aunt. The bike you hated to share with your twin. The first perfume you bought on your own. The bubble bath after your first heartbreak. The forbidden books you hid under your bed. The country road where all your family lives. The streets you walk with psyche at ease. 

Migrating in time and perspective,


Tags: legacy, family, home, nostalgia, childhood, memory, belonging, postcards from an artist, 120 words, coming of age

DISLOCATE: Postcards from an Artist

Holla back, call and response, talking to the screen. April pens a series of postcards, poetic open letters, to the people, places and objects in a selection of this year’s films. These films have inhabited her dreams, salted her tears, stoked a hopeful anger. Art imitates life inspires art in this uninvited collaboration with the filmmakers, an exquisite corpse from film to word. Share on Facebook • Share on Twitter • Share on Google 


ABOut the artist

April Banks is a conceptual artist, intentional inbetweener and border crosser. Driven by immersive observation and questioning, her obsession with research usually dissolves into happy accidents that shape shift between photography, installation, writing, and collaborative experiments.

Currently, April is melting her nostalgia for postcards into a multimedia digital project. The beauty of the postcard is how it travels simultaneously with the traveler, perhaps in the opposite direction, across borders where the traveler may not even be permitted to go. Everyone travels everyday, as much in (day) dreams, a walk to an ethnic food store, a book, a news article, a film, a song, as with a passport and a plane. She pairs her international peregrinations with time travel, traipsing through historical archives and memories, questioning what we think we know of the past and how it informs our cultural positioning systems.

Equally addicted as confused, she experiences travel as an existential conundrum, yet can’t seem to say no.

View more of April Banks' work here.