My Father’s Daughter

When my grandmother passed, I was left a box of old photo albums. I looked at the old pictures for an entire afternoon, struck by the glowing innocence that emanated from them. The photos wallowed with warm light and smiles from the figures within them. One figure in particular caught my eye–a young boy with crowded teeth and a goofy grin. He had an essence about him, like you knew he was up to no good but couldn’t help but let his antics slide. He looked happy, bright. A promising young man. What changed since then?

This body of work examines concepts of addiction, memory, and generational trauma. I am interested in the ways past experiences and actions shape a person’s present behaviors. I am particularly interested in the way the human brain interprets and obscures memories, specifically through the lens of addiction. My Father’s Daughter acts as a tool for reckoning with these accumulated memories, specifically exploring my inability to understand the emotions and inherited traumas I have towards addiction. I am inquiring: is there an exact, pin-point moment when the little boy in the picture changed from innocent to addict? Is it too late for me?