In Camera Lucida: Reflections on Photography, Roland Barthes writes of his difficulty in believing that time heals all wounds. Writing about grief, he suggests that time heals no more than the sense of loss (with time, one stops weeping) and that all else remains unchanged. The loss of his mother, he explains, was not the loss of a figure (his mother) but of her being, and not just of her being but her essence (her soul) as well: it is the loss not of the indispensable but the irreplaceable.

In this single-channel video installation, a slow tracking shot takes the viewer through the house I grew up in. Some objects quite literally burst into view, but otherwise there is near-silence and no one to be seen. Other elements of the installation are a patchwork quilt and prints, which represent further traces of memory.