To Mend What Does Not Return

To Mend What Does Not Return begins with an impossible task: repair without restoration. Through stitching, touch, drawing and repeated gestures, I return to fragments rather than attempting to make them whole. Bodies, generations and remembered images begin to inhabit the same surface; one time passes through another. A cinematic image may enter a domestic scene, a wound may become a seam, and an act of care may carry something that preceded it. Mending here is not recovery. It is a way of remaining beside what has changed — allowing memory to persist without pretending that what disappeared can be returned.