Memories in the Skin 

There is so many stories that every single person has, some are filled with happiness and others are so unbelievably sad. Those stories are the easiest for people to connect to- to understand. I am a person filled with many bitter memories. They would be easy to recall, they could make me put raw emotion in my art so simply. I don't think that's what I will do this piece on. Instead, I simply want to make an image that shows others, and reminds me, of the times that I hold dearest to me. They are the times that make me break down and cry because I was so happy in those moments. They are the memories that I refuse to forget, they take a bit of the coldness out of my bones because they are solid proof that I was loved.

I was born the same year that my older brother is diagnosed with brain tumors. My parents were consumed with fixing him and making sure that they don't have to feel the pain of losing a child. My father has made sure that my brother as everything, that he never missed out on a single opportunity. When you have a parent that cares so much about one child and never really looks at the others, it makes you feel unloved. I have long past grew out of that feeling because now I understand that my brother could have died, something my younger self never really grasped, and there is very little I wouldn't do for him. In those years though, when all I wanted was for my father's full attention, there is only one day that I actually got to spend with my father, just me and him. It was mostly because I refused to go to the hospital with the rest of my family, my younger self could never stand seeing how my brother was after his treatment, and my father decided to just stay with me.

I am still selfish enough to say that I am glad that didn't go that day because it is still my favourite memory that I share with my father. I don't actually remember what we did during the day, the real memory is when we finished dinner and I saw my father bring out the air mattress. He told me that we are going to sleep in the living room that night so that I could watch a new movie, Monsters Inc. I was probably the happiest four year old in that moment, eating chips cuddled up with my dad while watching a funny new movie. It was much needed time that I spent with my father, and even 14 years after it happened I can realize how much he actually does care. My father has never been good at showing his feelings towards any of his children, at times it feels like I may be a burden, but the fact remains that he has always been there when I needed him, maybe not in the way that I liked, but he was there and I know that he will still be there for me until death.