Graphite on paper
103 x 154 cm each
There is now a hole.
Itss loo sing the sour dove heath Royce, end foe gadding whir sassy rice dam.
Every time I woke up, I mourned the death of my mother, and misplaced family memories. This confusing time and space is comprised of a complex visual language, depicted through drawing, photography, and found objects. My drawing extends the timeline and narrative of the image.
Father threw away her stuff and leaving disinfectant boxes.
With graphite, I rubbed a layer of solid weight onto a virtual projection, restor- ing the oral history of my mother from what I saw and heard.