FINALLY, the pieces are coming together in Eric Quah’s life. Images of people, places and events collaged through a flourish of brushstrokes or an erasure from an airbrush; signifier of texts, sometimes framed as separate panels in painted or pasted-peeled windows into another world and another time.
These are places of the heart – some concealed, some blotted out; of languid shared moments past; of familiar faces – the laughter, whisper and chatter, with fleeting facial and bodily expressions and actions replayed in the mind, slow-mo.
Snatches of life, surreal, like lines from a T.S. Eliot poem.
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