In 2009 I made a book about the traumatic memories of my abusive childhood/youth. Titled “buried”, the book is 35 handmade pages of suppressed memories in the form of words and fabricated photographs, echoing a diary I kept (and ended up burying in the ground) while the abuse was going on. Many of these stories hadn’t been unearthed since they happened, but were revealed, critiqued, and discussed with my professors and classmates. The result was a sombre reflection on my past, and closure to move on.

“buried” itself was buried, and now lies in the ground.

Update: As of the Spring of 2012, “buried” is now lost.