What hides behind family secrets? What are the conversations we longed to have but never did, and now never will? Some silences are intentional, others accidental. Some things are quietly erased, while others are simply never spoken aloud. There’s a specific kind of grief that lingers in those spaces, the ache of unanswered questions, of imagined dialogues that will never take place, of truths that were never meant to be shared.

In this work, I use family archival material as a way of reaching toward a conversation I’ll never be able to have: an adult conversation with my grandmother. Through fragments, images, and imagined exchanges, I try to bridge that impossible gap. What might we have said to each other, had time, place, and circumstance allowed? What could have surfaced and what would still remain hidden?

This piece is an exploration of what stays unspoken within families. It holds the tension between intimacy and mystery, between memory and absence. It's about the quiet legacies passed down not through stories, but through silence.