A portrait is a liminal space. It is an image meant to be traversed and understood only in passing. It is a window into your own memories and experiences but not a place in and of it itself. A portrait begs the question who am I as well as who is this person I am looking at.
In my family, the women are the storytellers, the keepers of memories, the collectors of histories. I had the opportunity to continue this tradition and to tell their (often untold) stories. Looking at these portraits I hope you see the influence they’ve had on my life, the ways they’ve shaped me, and the beautiful people that they are. As you walk up the stairs, picture yourself gliding through the halls of your childhood home, looking at the portraits of your own family. As you move through the exhibition, the portraits become filled with color and detail. This follows the path of my memory. The oldest woman portrayed is nameless. I know her only because of a story about her travels from Slovakia to the United States in the late 1800s. She could be anyone, therefore she is only a silhouette. On the other hand, the most contemporary portrait is the patchwork of my mom and me.

It shows how intertwined our lives are and how detailed and colorfully I know her. It is a privilege to be able to carry these women’s stories with me, for them to be woven into my own, and I hope you can see the ways they have become my home.