NOTES FROM MY GARDEN

     Throughout my childhood I used to bury decorative tins around our yard and on the edges of my mother’s garden. I would often lift up sheets of moss and tuck them in tightly, sometimes roughly wedging them into the nooks of our magnolia tree. Vibrant weeds and wildflowers that pushed themselves into the landscape acted as a flag for me to remember where my treasures were resting (as long as my dad didn’t mow the lawn that week). The handwritten notes and found objects I buried inside were the pieces of my life I thought important enough to keep secret. When we would visit my grandparent's houses, I would check around their yards in places I thought would make good hiding spots just in case someone else liked leaving notes too. The works above are based on some of the weeds, bushes, and flowers that used to safely guard my time capsules.

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