“My work explores humanity’s innate drive for movement—nomadism, migration, and the resulting experiences of alienation, isolation, and adaptation that define the diasporic condition. Assimilation, strained by the necessity of refuge, unearths a hunger for existence that exceeds mere survival. I ask whether the process of evolution, both personal and societal, can redefine what it means to belong. As individuals adapt, does the landscape itself respond? These questions fuel my exploration.

I hand weave silk on 4 and 8 shaft looms, which allow me to build and manipulate layered textile structures. These layers, when activated by light and space, influence how depth and pattern emerge. I am interested in how both selective and random exposures affect mark-making, and how patterns develop through interaction rather than design alone.

While woven structure may seem rigidly defined by mathematics, it is also infinitely versatile. My process began with experiments in double weave but ultimately returned to the bold simplicity of tabby. I have specifically used techniques that allow the woven structure to adapt and respond to its environment—space, light, air —subtly redirecting and informing its native lines. This aspect of transience creates an evolving relationship between the work and the place or moment in which it is experienced. I consider this relationship reflective of the human experience and the truth of impermanence.

Silk, inherently fragile yet resilient, becomes my vehicle for metamorphosis. Within its form, I see a parallel to personal and cultural transformation, an evolution that is often painful but necessary. Warp and weft uncannily emulate the pathways of physical migration. As weft passes through hands, time, and space to realise the woven structure, I recall the significance of acts of migration in shaping identity. Still, each individual thread, however it merges with the whole, retains its own integrity, belonging in and unto itself.

Moments of transition define lifetimes and cultures, yet are often met with resistance. Whether through relocation, displacement, collaboration, or adaptation, these shifts are strategies of survival. History reveals that such transitional moments usher in new eras. They shape belief systems, economies, language, art, and access to knowledge—layering time like woven cloth. If these repetitions are viewed as cyclic, they become portals through which the world and the individual are irreversibly changed. Such thresholds illuminate the ephemeral nature of identity. In this temporality—this constant unfolding—I find the most vital truth of the human condition.

Poppies marks Poppy Williams’ fifth solo exhibition at China Heights, a vibrant continuation of her print-based practice that delves deeper into the relationship between colour, memory, and process. Using oil ink on archival paper, each work is created through reduction lino printing - a method that, like memory itself, removes layers to reveal something fuller.

This series is a love letter to Williams’ family and their shared affection for flowers. Inspired by photographs of table arrangements and flourishing backyards, Poppies reflects on the quiet beauty that blooms in domestic life. Flowers are cultural shapeshifters, symbols of love, grief, celebration, and everything in between. From ancient rituals to everyday moments (think birthday bouquets or roadside stalls), they persist as small, fragrant gestures of meaning.

Williams pairs humour with reflection. The exaggerated colours and rhythmic layering bring a playful energy to the prints, while grounding them in personal sentiment. As with past exhibitions, this body of work reimagines formal methodologies, placing emphasis on colour interplay and layered structure.

With Poppies, Williams invites us into a garden of collective memory, one carved in ink, rooted in family, and blooming with warmth.