The memory of the voices, actions, and interactions between people are never lost. They may be hazy and choppy, but they are a reminder of our roots through the connections that mean the most to us. The passing of my grandfather made this claim all too
true. I realized that the objects that not only my grandfather, but all of my grandparents left behind awakened the memories that lay dormant for quite some time. I remember my grandparents best through their hands, which taught
me how to create these different objects.
Art is my way to preserve the memories that go along with these objects and teachings that would have, otherwise, been lost to my family. My works allow me to bring my memories to life rather than internalize these events, which helps me to remember and
ultimately, let go.