buried

A photo of a child smiling, wearing a Minnie Mouse shirt. The text reads: “In home videos of my early childhood, my life appeared smooth and simple, effortless. I was quiet and shy, but content. I loved my mother, and my mother loved me. I do not remember this time in my life.”

A metal figurine held in the air between two fingers. The text reads: “When I was at school, my mother would clean and rearrange my room. Every shelf, every drawer”

A woman looking up from a bent position with a distressed expression and her hair in disarray

Legs of a young woman collapsed on a floor, the left foot in the foreground.

In 2009 I made a book about traumatic memories from my abusive childhood and 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.

A closeup of a young woman gazing into the camera

“but I couldn’t remember her hitting me much of the time.”

Scenes from my youth were recreated and photographed, reenacted by young people I knew.

These memories were very difficult to face and hadn’t been unearthed since they happened. Creating within the context of weekly critiques with professors and peers at MassArt, the trauma was integrated into my life narrative in a healthy, healing way.

A telephone receiver held limp in someone’s hand

A person looking away, as seen through a decorative and reflective glass door

A young person with painted nails pressing their palms into the dirt.

A photo a smooth surfacing peeking out beneath dirt. The text reads: “So I buried it.”

The artist burying the book, circa 2009.

“buried” itself was buried

It now lies in the ground.

Watch the burial process on Vimeo (about 12 minutes)

Update: As of the Spring of 2012, “buried” is now lost. I had buried it amongst some trees, but those trees have since been cleared, and I can’t locate the burial site.