How has my family’s history managed to find its way through space and time to arrive at my door? And to influence my life. A time that’s fleeting, where what once was no longer is, and which I can’t seem to fully grasp. This time is like a place of discovery, full of stories and secrets, spirits which unexpectedly appear and then fade. It sometimes feels empty, from faded or suppressed memories. And sometimes overwhelmingly full and coloured, with desires and loss at once apparent. During WWII my mother was held prisoner in Japanese internment camp. Her father went missing and was never found.
