One
of my earliest childhood memories is of holding my grandmother's
bruised hand as she lay in a coffin laden with satin ruffles and
sweet-smelling floral bouquets. My mother is the youngest of thirteen
children, so I would accompany her to the funerals of her brothers
and sisters for years to come. Visiting cemeteries became a natural
extension of my childhood.
This
pattern instilled a curiosity with death that I have been questioning
and researching since I was able to read. I often escape to
cemeteries to read epitaphs, and observe religious items, old
photographs, and flowers left behind. I like to think of cemeteries
as visual diaries of souls who have passed. I am curious to know how
families mourn their loved ones.
Like
the people of Oaxaca during the Dia
de los Muertos
celebration,
my work celebrates my personal memories and the lives of those who
have shaped my life.
My
interpretation of death is whimsical, romantic, and sweet. The bones
and skeletal images are symbolic of the strength—as
well as of the fragility—
of the human body.
I experiment with the idea of finding beauty in death and accepting
my own mortality through personal narratives from my childhood. I
invite my viewers to abandon their taboos about the inevitable, and
experience my love of life and profound interest in death.
