The Spanish term sobremesa translates in English as ‘upon (or about) the table’, and is a tradition of sitting around the dining table and enjoying conversation after a hearty meal. Earlier this year, I printed the surface of my dining table and this felt like a gateway into bringing together the histories and materialities of two very different locations that are entangled in my life: West Yorkshire and Lanzarote. I became a mother in Lanzarote and feel embedded in its landscape, however, a series of unexpected events returned me back to my childhood home in rural West Yorkshire. Here, I live in an imaginary world of Lanzarote, exploring my relationship to both of these places from the position of motherhood and living in an epoch of time defined by climate crisis and the destruction of the natural world. I find the melancholy of this post-industrial landscape inescapable, and my work always seems to communicate a sense of loss, absence or dislocation, made manifest in the separation of the domestic from the wild and the isolation of late stage capitalism. Utopian ideas, simulations and fantasies fill these empty spaces. I feel the need to engage in a geological sensuality - perhaps a kind of romance or poetry - to recuperate and reconcile the different materialities and processes that contribute to a sense of place. There is an analogy to finding fossils or archeological artefacts buried in layers of strata akin to memories, sedimented and eroded through creative practice. I’m interested in the garden as a site of social and sculptural mediation between people, landscapes, ecology and systems of dwelling, nurture and preservation. I made this installation, Sobremesa, as a hybrid site for telling stories about encounters within my maternal stratum of the Anthropocene.