Memory and image
What happens when the baby thinks? Can we really think without language?
Is memory a series of images or a series of words?
What happens during the perception process?
Why do some of the images transform into memories while some evaporate?
As I’m taking these photos,
I’m collecting memories for my children.
As an adult,
I have already seen through these images, a nostalgia of the presence.
What happens when we see ourselves as children?
That little girl was ME.
But that little girl is still ME, she’s still inside me.
Like an onion, my body is growing bigger,
but that little baby is somewhere inside these layers.
When I see these photos of myself I see myself from the inside.
I see memories.
Taking photos of my children is something that I need to do.
I feel the need to capture every moment, for me and for them.
Not only to record their faces but also for the memory's sake.
The memory of feelings, of the atmosphere, of the aura,
of this moment so tender of childhood
and sometimes so confusing for me as a mother.
I feel this need to grasp them as a memory,
as a basement of a man, as a root of an adult.
As something to hold on or something to release, as my own memory.
To my own childhood, to everyone’s childhood.
I was born in Bangkok Thailand, where i finished my Architecture Degree then i went to France to study Urbanism, Theory of art and finally Landscape. I had been working in a lanscape designer firm for several years before coming to Mexico with my family. Here i began to catch up with my eternal passion; art and photography.
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