returning is an exhibition of memory, both hyper-personal and universal. A subtle topography of rolling synthetic grass covers the ground. Records turn in the grass, buzzing and sticking in repeated loops as they struggle to play from beginning to end. The scent of fresh cut grass from a park in Missouri wafts through the room while Midwestern clouds float by on the ceiling above. 

‍returning is an excavation and externalization of my processing of developmental trauma in EMDR therapy, a methodology in which patients revisit and rewire memories connected to formative traumatic experiences. My memories associated with this work take place in my hometown of Webster Groves, a suburb of St. Louis. The smell of the grass in St. Louis beckons me into clouds of nostalgia and recollection. A universally known smell becomes particular, unmistakable. Something not universally known about grass is that its scent is evidence of damage - an odor emitted to ward off further threat - a remnant of a traumatic experience. The records in this show are sourced from my parents' collection. They conjure a journey through my childhood home, filled with the lightness of music and the darkness of my upbringing. The act of reprocessing traumatic memories through EMDR brought me understanding of my history of dissociation from my body and emotions. Grass dissociated from grass. A sky dissociated from itself. An internal temporal loop without clear resolution. This show is a document of time passed and passing. It is a record, not skipping, but playing to completion.