Concealment

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Concealment

Large portraits, piano roll paper, led light source

2016

Phoenix Institute of Contemporary Art

They are strangers to me.

My mother and father were once small, once middle aged, and now old. They had a favorite grandma, a best friend, and a childhood pet. They were made and broken by the hardships that love causes. I was part of that. Maybe I was even one of those hardships.

Their information is being lost, dispersed across time and space. They are becoming unrecognizable to me. They are outgrowing my perception. They are becoming ideas. They are becoming memory. I’m committing them to memory because it is the last safe place in which to have something.

Photos and objects are not really memories. They elicit memory and sometimes stand in for a lost memory but Time is a relentless friend, always begging you to forget. Always whispering, “Let it disappear”.