This work is embodied in a triptych made up of photographs of her body moving through her living room. Though her face is never visible, the work functions as a self-portrait, reflecting how she navigates and occupies the space, with blurred movement emphasizing both presence and the negotiation of how much space one is allowed, or allows oneself, to take up.

The work draws from her experiences, having grown up in Ottawa suburbs, to living with roommates in the downtown area. What began as an idealized vision of shared living, imagined through late-night conversations and shared meals, gradually shifted into environments marked by tension, frequent moves, and a continued search for a place to belong. Conflicts over everyday domestic details transformed the living room into a space of discomfort, where visibility felt risky and absence became a form of ease. These dynamics shaped an acute awareness of the body in shared space, where movement became cautious and self-erasure a means of coexistence. Created in her current home, the work reflects a shift in this relationship. After years of transience, four apartments and seven roommates, she has established a space where she feels more at ease occupying it fully. Yet the absence of her head introduces a tension between presence and invisibility, referencing past experiences and acknowledging their lingering impact. The body asserts itself, while identity remains partially withheld.

Handwritten text overlays the images in white ink, functioning as fragments of a diary that trace her thoughts, lessons learned, and emotional responses to these lived experiences. Some words remain legible, while others dissolve into abstraction, offering only partial access and resisting full disclosure. This intentional obscurity encourages viewers to project their own experiences onto the work, reinforcing the idea that home is subjective, unstable, and continually redefined. The material process is central to the work’s meaning. Originally scanned from black and white negatives, the images were later transformed into digital negatives and printed as cyanotypes. The tiled composition and visible tape emphasize construction, repetition, and fragmentation, echoing the layered nature of building a home, through trial and error. The use of hydrogen peroxide deepens the tonal range of the blue, enhancing the physicality of the print. The larger scale marks a departure from her typically small works, reflecting both a physical and psychological expansion—an increased confidence and willingness to take up space. Through the integration of image, text, and process, Derouin’s work considers how domestic environments shape the body, memory, and the evolving understanding of what it means to feel at home.

Domestic Diary (self-portrait)

Cyanotype, watercolour paper, 120mm Pan-F film, white ink

26” x 60”