In My Mother’s Closet

Returning to 31 Beverly Road in the nineties was so emotional, my parents were  old and ill.  I realised  they would soon be gone, how impermanent we all were and that with them the home I grew up in would also disappear. These images  attempt to recreate  my childhood memories. The places I played in, especially my mother’s closet. Tossing  my head around to breath in the perfume lingering on the dresses and feel the silks and fabrics on my face, as I invented stories with dolls and teddy bears.

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