In projects such as this one I explore the subconscious impact of my mother’s death through recurring dreams from my childhood. This piece features an old nightstand, each drawer revealing a scene from these dreams, intertwined with personal memorabilia and my mother's possessions. This tangible representation serves as a bridge between past and present, offering insight into how early experiences shape behavior and fears.
Drawer 1
This is my first dream, an exciting one full of adventure. I had this dream many times as a kid, where I was running through the forest to find treasure, and I must cross a jungle pyramid, and it collapses as I run through it. When the rubble clears, I find treasure. As we travel down each drawer, the complexity, darkness, and connection to my mom’s death will become more clear and heavier.
Drawer 2
I met Osmond in January of 2020, in a dream that repeated over the span of about a week. Everytime I shut my eyes, I saw his face, glowing off-white eyeballs with smooth, blue skin, ridges surrounding his eye sockets, with large open pores on the top of his head. In the dream, I would be seeing myself in real time, when he would enter through my door, approach my bed, sit down, and watch me while I slept peacefully. I drew every detail of what I saw so vividly in my head onto paper. The second I was finished, I never saw him in my dream again. His presence was comforting. I have never been all that religious, but I find that many times in which I call to a higher power, it comes in the form of a parental figure. This is what Osmond became for me when I was much older in my adolescence. And when I stopped writing to my Mom when I got older, I would speak to her, or he would be there to listen.
Drawer 3
My twin brother and I have always been fairly independent from our dad, and very close to one another. We have been best friends since we were little, he is my rock now and has always been that way. I would have dreams of other very close family members dying right in front of me, constantly. The one that traumatized me most as a kid, and I still can picture this scene in vivid detail, is being out at sea alone with him. My brother couldn't swim until we were both about 10, I learned much younger. All I could see was myself, holding onto the back of the boat, reaching out trying to grab his hand, but I can't, as I slowly watch him drown. You must kneel down to see this scene fully, so it forces you to into a position of vulnerability, that is why it is the final scene.
