Tissue paper covered in embroidered sentences, flowers, paper birds and plants, small bass-relief figures.
As a river that flows, memories come from the past, changing, then lie on the bottom for years, just to resurface as ancient memorabilia from a past far away. While making this piece in memory of my grandmother, in these quarantine days I feel like my female ancestors may have felt: somehow trapped in the house, working with hands to pass the time and reflect.
