I have very little memory of my parents’ relationship; only pictures and the interactions between my dad and the things of my mom’s he’s kept. The image of them composed of storytelling, mannerisms, and attachment. The memory of them is a tape loop; very dense and repetitively patterned, yet each time it comes around I feel renewed.
I have very little memory of my parents’ relationship; only pictures and the interactions between my dad and the things of my mom’s he’s kept. The image of them composed of storytelling, mannerisms, and attachment. The memory of them is a tape loop; very dense and repetitively patterned, yet each time it comes around I feel renewed.
A lone construction surveyor navigates the mysterious lower level of a soon-to-be demolished building. Burdened with the task of mapping the infrastructure’s network of…
