I have always been quite fond of saving things that mean something to me. The nostalgia of unscrewing the lid of a forgotten memory jar, full of forgotten treasures, but I cannot recall from the items, the imagery that I hoped I would be able to lean into. These images serve as a memory bank of a time period most treasured. Distilling the days seems a compulsion, as I hope that I do not forget the struggle. The overwhelming-ness of daily life and of learned happenings of a time long gone.