Growing up with my dad, a pilot and my mom, a flight attendant, I was shown the value of travel from a young age. Travel has greatly shaped how I interpret memories. This exhibition examines what it would look like to paint a memory. Like a special dress in the back of your closet you never wear but you just can’t get rid of, like a soaked swimsuit hanging out to dry on a hot summer day, like a bow being looped into a perfect knot, like dance steps you stumble through but manage, like one big glorious curtain full of light waiting to be drawn open. Memories remain one of those truly intangible beauties of life, made tangible again only through our imaginations.

Similar to your one eye squinting, right finger pressing down, the film lever turning, the vision captured, and in the very same instant, it’s gone. A picture that somehow feels even more precious in your hand than when you were standing there right in front of it taking the photo.

This exhibition addresses this encapsulating yet fleeting moment in its use of collected film and archived encounters that has developed into the paintings you will see. The light on my parents' chandelier flickering, the raindrops like stars on a black umbrella sky, the streetlights going from red to green in the city, the fluorescent color of a pool float swirling, the lines of light bulbs on a carousel spinning, all memories that illuminate the darkness of life before we experience it. These paintings are to reflect on the reflections, my memory as my forever muse.