Forgive me, follower, for I have sinned. It’s been 12 days since my last post…

I can articulate now that this installation is my expression of compassion for those who are suffering from the loss of their homes and other objects. Objects become so significant to us when they take on symbolic qualities, when the memory of something that lived becomes associated with an object-and the house is an object, too. For me, the home I lived in, in Virginia, from age 13-18 was extremely significant for me. I became a woman, an adult and an artist in that house. I experienced love and death for the first time in that house. I remember my father best in that house-at his prime. I moved to the West Coast when I was 20 and within a few years, my parents moved from that house and it was torn down to make a new road. When I visit Virginia I still look for the one section of our backyard fence that marks the spot next to the road. I struggled with that loss. It was like losing a member of my family. I still visit my family in Virginia but I never was able to go “home” again once that house was gone .

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