I Am Not Who They Promised
This project was the thesis for my Master's degree.
In this project, I was considering my relationship to my father, processing loss, and considering the different ways he occurred to and through me and my siblings. Working from personal memories, offhanded snapshots, and interview materials, the resulting multimedia body of work tests the historical functions of the codex book and the portrait. The curiosity that directs my work looks into my own ways of processing experiences and measures them in relation to communication tools by which the social is structured.
Once a person ceases to be around, they are then made up of the memories and memorabilia left behind and how people choose to interpret either. As my own memories of my father seem to be fading, I hear from my siblings of their memories and who they saw and now see my father as.
I am not who they promised
MX dye on cotton
9.5 feet long
The top most text was free handed using a condiment squeeze bottle, while the rest of the text was screen printed line by line to create a gradient out of which comes the conclusion ‘I am not who they promised’.
Jimmy Kimmel Is Just A White Man
What Is A Face
Ink on MDF
2.5 x 3.5 feet
These two matrices were never used to make any prints. Both of the phrases carved into the panels were ones that my father was known for having said. Even as the one who did the carving, I do not feel they are my words to pass along, so they stay -kept.
Who Was This Man
Graphite on paper
This book was made by me painstakingly hand drawing each letter of every sentence, in two typefaces, I had written explaining how I felt about my father as a man, husband, and caretaker.
Pieces of my Family
Risograph on paper
Through these two books I was exploring the fragmentation of memory and what that might look like if it was possible to hold in your hands.
Xerox on Paper with Embroidery thread
This book is bound shut with gold embroidery thread. The image on the pages is made up from the generation loss that occurs from xeroxing an already degraded image over and over again. The image was one I took as a teenager of my father in his hospice bed at home in my childhood home.