Memory

When I was in kindergarten, my auntie gave me this necklace. 

(Here I am, wearing it happily...)

When she died in 2005, I missed her a lot.  So I put this necklace in a shadow box by my door where  I see it everyday.

I see that scrapbooking has become an obsession for some people but I could never make myself follow that trend, even though there is a multitude of materials and tools that are out there.

I prefer to scrounge around in my dusty boxes of memory for my inspiration and sort through cast-off paper and fabric scraps for materials.  I got this tendency from my mom.  The scrounging and the sentimentality.

Each tiny object is connected to a flood of memories - a trip to Bali, getting engaged in Darwin, a dear missed friend and hours spent at a bar in Guerneville getting over reverse culture shock...

These little pieces were art made by someone, somewhere, like me.  An artist hoping that their work would be made special in its association and connection to memory and other people.