Persist
This piece explores the various ways memories can persist when our minds fail to preserve them.
Upon entering the space, the viewer is faced with a cascade of fabric featuring photos taken throughout my family’s lives. These images begin clear and saturated, but like memory does with time, slowly fade as the viewer walks by. While some have merely lost clarity and color, others are lost entirely—fallen from memory. Amongst the oldest and most faded images stands a ladder, illustrating how our experiences construct our realities. Though our memories do not define us, they do constitute who we are and how we see the world, especially in our earliest years. In the left hand corner of the floor sits a pile of bare fabric, representing future memories to be made.
On the wall across from this scene is a collage of my personal memorabilia—physical evidence of life lived—pieces of me. Sentimental trinkets, however, accomplish nothing if we do not honor what gave them meaning. The poem Persist, placed at the center of this collage, speaks to this fact.