In the muddy garden after the rain:

I’m thinking about the past, 

how I used to exist and what I’ve uncovered since.

Once sheltered from what really is -

Currently, beginning to understand the reality of the big quiz. 

Truth is a term I fly away from, 

it’s constrained and in my mind, banned.

Who really knows the truth of the past?

it’s not like it was planned. 

Referenced familial fragments and writings are the bones of my paintings. These fragments and words are gathered from captured old photos, physical references and stories passed down by my relatives. With a limited view, I dissect my family's past images by using a small cut out frame to reveal hidden moments that are lost within the photo. Once I start with this found reference, I let my imagination and tendency for muted color take over. I'm giving a glance into my familial history and at the same time, retelling the ambiguity I feel when trying to imagine what it was like before me. This leaves me stuck in what might have been but, I wont wait to dry while being hung.