If I See This Again

2024. To the little girl who thought she was incomplete, looking elsewhere for fulfilment when it was within herself all along. To all the women I would not be here without, I cherish your names, your genes in my blood, I will not forget you.

During the refurbishment of the final room touched by my Father in our original family home, unearthed by my step-Father, hidden beneath wallpaper was a hand scribbled note, it read:

‘If i see this again it’s divorce time! SH 3.11.01’

I was six when my parents sat me down and told me we would not continue life as a family unit. Upon reflection with my mum did i realise i was six, my brain had scrubbed my memory of two full years, i had assume I was eight.

I remember that memory with a violent red haze across my vision, dining room tables are so large compared to children.

As i continue on through Adolescence, after many heartbreaks and delusion, with a sprinkle of therapy, I noticed a pattern within myself.

I was never enough.

This triggered a visual expedition, to track down the forgotten evidence of my parents marriage. Digging through An attempt to untangle the warped view of love i was born from, that which my brain had tried to scrub from my mind.

Being born in 1999, my family history is sporadically archived in digital and physical formats, leaving a trail of objects evidencing the love story that sparked my soul. Taking these objects and repurposing them into fragile representations of themselves, I found a cathartic practice that offered a format to depict the pain buried within me.