What Remains With You
The quiet heroism of not passing something on.
16 dual A4 physical inscriptions exploring legacy as subtraction, honouring those who have spent a lifetime metabolising pain to create a clearing for those who arrive next.
A metaphor. The world gets the beautiful image. An inscription, the legacy, as it appears from the outside - whole, accessible, shareable. It can be admired, moving the viewer. But it’s encountered in a way strangers encounter a life: from a distance, seeing only what’s presented. The collector, presented with a dual physical, experiences the intimate. They hold the emptied thing. The paper that gave something up. They live with the texture of what remains after the bloom is gone. Maybe that's the real inheritance. The ghost isn't for everyone. Strangers don't get to hold that. They didn't earn it. The weight of the empty paper, the marks, reserved for those close enough to understand what used to be there.
Whether Or Not It's Ever Found
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A Grand And Tender Attempt
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Something Lighter Than What Was Endured
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Portrait of a Pattern, Three Generations Deep
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Scars Embodied
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Blossoms I'll Never Sit Under
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My Mother's Voice In My Mouth
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When Even The Shadows Fade
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Soft Archive of a Lingered Feeling
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No Strangers Remembered Her
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Where Patterns Come To Mourn
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The Absence of Dysfunction Is Invisible
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They Stood Taller Because of Her
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Healing on An Ordinary Afternoon
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A Life Measured In Presence
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