always love each other, never get married

When I was a younger, I discovered a white briefcase filled with photographs and fragments of my parents’ early life together, their youth, their wedding, their beginnings.

The briefcase was among other things meant to be thrown away. Once opened, I realised it contained the traces of a life before mine, and I instinctively tried to rescue something. I took a handful of images and hid them in a box beneath my dolls’ clothes.

A few days later, the briefcase disappeared and with it, the visible remains of my parents’ shared memories.

Over time, I began to revisit the rescued images, organising, reworking, and reanimating what had survived. In these photographs, I trace the sedimented layers of affection, silence, and disappearance that shaped my family’s story. The images have become both an archive and a site of erosion, where what was once vivid has faded, and yet continues to resurface.

Through this work, I attempt to reconstruct my parents’ story, not as a faithful restoration, but as an act of transformation. By layering fragments of the past with my own presence, I explore how memory accumulates, dissolves, and reconfigures over time how what is buried can still speak through its remains.