Created in 2024. Drawings of old photographs are transferred onto pieces of wood and arranged in the garden and alleys of my family home.
Production Note
Looking back at the past with my mother, we browsed through old photo albums—pictures of my grandparents when they were young, the neighborhood children. My grandfather would seat children on his lap, regardless of whether they were his own. My mother once thought that this meant she wasn’t truly loved. But seeing these photos again, she realized it was a misunderstanding. “My sense of identity has collapsed…” she said with a laugh.
In one of the photographs, my young mother is standing in the garden, clutching a doll in her right hand. “This was Yumi’s doll from next door,” she told me. “She lent it to me so I could have it in the picture. I was so happy.”
I made drawings based on several of these photographs and transferred them onto pieces of wood. My mother slipped one photo into her notebook. Later, I thought I should have recorded that moment on video.
I installed the finished works and photographed them—layering my records over the memories of my mother and our home.
Though the family house itself was rebuilt long ago, the garden and alleys remain unchanged. Placing the work there brought forth a landscape I had never seen before.
(Production record for “Memory of Mother and Home,” 2025)
