Rachel Marsil’s practice unfolds between memory and dream, transforming family photographs into painted scenes where recollection blurs with imagination. Her figures, soft, contemplative silhouettes that sometimes echo her own features, occupy an in-between space, their steady gazes drawing viewers into a shared subconscious. Objects appear with the same weight as bodies, carrying emotional and memorial charge; they anchor the paintings, preventing them from drifting fully into oneirism and instead opening portals to personal and collective remembrance.

In recent work, Marsil extends this intimate exploration toward the environment, drawing on the torrential rhythms of tropical rain in Dakar, Ouagadougou, and Mexico. Storms become metaphors for shelter, community, and renewal, while the cyclical reemergence of the lungfish, surfacing with the first heavy rains as if fallen from the sky, offers an emblem of survival and rebirth. Through these intertwined worlds of weather and memory, Marsil’s painting proposes a poetic way of inhabiting history: attuned to rhythm, rooted in sensation, and open to transformation.