CNietzsche warns us that histories are open to interpretation. As I work through my family mythologies, I am skeptical but also intrigued. Why do we recall some stories more than others? What remains concealed from childhood? Sifting through screen memories, I search to shed light on the array of forces that have shaped me. I am looking for the psychological imprints that have been passed down as well as those that the psyche may have kept hidden. I grew up surrounded by extended family who told multi-generational tales grounded in deep Southern tradition. This underlying framework connects me to a lineage that tells a larger story. In working with these ideas of living memory, I have built a language of personal symbols and objects to evoke both real and imagined places. These spaces can be viewed through the lens of Carl Jung, where memory and images are analyzed for meaning, and intergenerational dynamics reveal themselves in patterns drawn from genograms tracing trauma. Collage and layered imagery elicit notions of fractured memories and mimic how bits and pieces of our recollections come together to create a larger whole. Materials of torn ephemera, paper bags and carboard act as substrates to coalesce history, place and contemporary life. Similarly, skewed perspectives, high chroma, and altered interiors of space and scale reveal a reconsidered and reconstructed visual narrative. This work allows me to recontextualize the failing and formidable family that came before me—making room for both dysfunction and disorder and forgiveness and fortitude. My practice is a bit of a quiet reflection, a search for self, and the moments that define our lives. Nietzsche warns us that histories are open to interpretation. As I work through my family mythologies, I am skeptical but also intrigued. Why do we recall some stories more than others? What remains concealed from childhood? Sifting through screen memories, I search to shed light on the array of forces that have shaped me. I am looking for the psychological imprints that have been passed down as well as those that the psyche may have kept hidden. I grew up surrounded by extended family who told multi-generational tales grounded in deep Southern tradition. This underlying framework connects me to a lineage that tells a larger story. In working with these ideas of living memory, I have built a language of personal symbols and objects to evoke both real and imagined places. These spaces can be viewed through the lens of Carl Jung, where memory and images are analyzed for meaning, and intergenerational dynamics reveal themselves in patterns drawn from genograms tracing trauma. Collage and layered imagery elicit notions of fractured memories and mimic how bits and pieces of our recollections come together to create a larger whole. Materials of torn ephemera, paper bags and carboard act as substrates to coalesce history, place and contemporary life. Similarly, skewed perspectives, high chroma, and altered interiors of space and scale reveal a reconsidered and reconstructed visual narrative. This work allows me to recontextualize the failing and formidable family that came before me—making room for both dysfunction and disorder and forgiveness and fortitude. My practice is a bit of a quiet reflection, a search for self, and the moments that define our lives. Nietzsche warns us that histories are open to interpretation. As I work through my family mythologies, I am skeptical but also intrigued. Why do we recall some stories more than others? What remains concealed from childhood? Sifting through screen memories, I search to shed light on the array of forces that have shaped me. I am looking for the psychological imprints that have been passed down as well as those that the psyche may have kept hidden. I grew up surrounded by extended family who told multi-generational tales grounded in deep Southern tradition. This underlying framework connects me to a lineage that tells a larger story. In working with these ideas of living memory, I have built a language of personal symbols and objects to evoke both real and imagined places. These spaces can be viewed through the lens of Carl Jung, where memory and images are analyzed for meaning, and intergenerational dynamics reveal themselves in patterns drawn from genograms tracing trauma. Collage and layered imagery elicit notions of fractured memories and mimic how bits and pieces of our recollections come together to create a larger whole. Materials of torn ephemera, paper bags and carboard act as substrates to coalesce history, place and contemporary life. Similarly, skewed perspectives, high chroma, and altered interiors of space and scale reveal a reconsidered and reconstructed visual narrative. This work allows me to recontextualize the failing and formidable family that came before me—making room for both dysfunction and disorder and forgiveness and fortitude. My practice is a bit of a quiet reflection, a search for self, and the moments that define our lives. Nietzsche warns us that histories are open to interpretation. As I work through my family mythologies, I am skeptical but also intrigued. Why do we recall some stories more than others? What remains concealed from childhood?  Sifting through screen memories, I search to shed light on the array of forces that have shaped me. I am looking for the psychological imprints that have been passed down as well as those that the psyche may have kept hidden.