Breathers is an emotional portrait, a near-typology of Pacific Northwest trees and their relationship to the developing landscape that is my mother in-law’s early onset Alzheimer’s Disease. They push upward and hover over homes, set against skies that isolate them like studio backdrops. The holes in their branches and leaves mimic gaps in cognition and metaphoric holes left in the brain. They have seen and heard everything and hang – breathing – through it all. This work processes a move and adaption from New York City’s concrete mass to the Pacific Northwest’s green oasis, and the reasons for moving; a disease that has claimed a rapidly vanishing memory, and the toll it’s taken on our family. In this context, the trees serve as listeners, breathers, and emotional guardians that have witnessed trauma and change.
Published 6 September 2018