I often find myself pulling apart my own memories, intrigued by the ordinary pieces that stick with me as I struggle to hold on to the details of more significant ones. I think of how our memories survive simultaneously as true remembered events and embellished stories we tell ourselves, floating in a dreamlike state between what is real and what has been fabricated. As I now reflect on my past as an adult, I consider particular moments of my childhood with a preciousness and glory. These points in time now exist as physical objects - framed prints in careful color, immersed in the sacred and intimate space I have built for them. I offer these illustrations of my own past in hopes that my audience will find something familiar in them.