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Artist Statement:
The death of my younger sister shattered me utterly; I held her purpled body in my arms, the weight of her stillness etching itself into my bones. I remember the house choked with police and ambulance officers, their shadows blurring as they carried her out in a black bag, zipping finality over the unimaginable. Time dragged to a crawl, and I dissociated, floating untethered from the scene. I could see people talking—mouths moving in frantic waves but their voices dissolved into a muffled void; time nearly halted, or perhaps it was my mind, desperately freezing the horror in place so I wouldn't have to process the flood of feeling, the blade-sharp pain.
That day, I was at the skate park, wheels humming beneath me in a rhythm of escape, when my phone rang. It was my older sister, her voice laced with panic, a tremor that clawed at the air: she couldn't say what had happened, only begged me to come home. My gut twisted into knots of nausea - I knew, in that instant, something life-altering had cracked open the world. The weirdest part? Ten minutes before the call, my legs turned to jelly, buckling beneath me; I couldn't skate another push, as if my body had foreseen the exact moment her soul slipped from this earth, a premonition etched in the quiver of my veins.
This piece stands as a haunting reminder of who gifted me these messages that pulse through my art - she does, channelling through me as her voice, whispering the words she never could. It is a visual echo of the feelings that swirl around me ceaselessly, her presence lingering not as a ghost, but in small, shimmering particles: fragments of light and shadow that refuse to fade, proving she's still here, woven into the very air I breathe.
Collection Details: The “Visual Thinking” series
