It is like a detachment from my body
Like wallpaper peeling off a wall
Like one half of my face is pulled back
Pulling back a cat's eye to expose the white
Crazed on one side of their face
That is one side of my face
There was something exciting about that driveway
I have come to realise there is nowhere I can be unfiltered
It is very strange to feel so enmeshed with fading people
Unscrewing the hinge of a locked box
This is where the lamb drinks
Du ovah, nu sigereh, e nah scatuhla deh fyammifereh
One half of your face is one side of my face
I hold an invested interest in bringing permanence to dissolving memory and preserving an expiring dialect only spoken by migrants leaving my family's village, Boiano, c.1950s. Through material realisations, I offer an understanding of how personal identity is moulded and distorted by intergenerational histories.
We acknowledge and pay respect to the Traditional Owners of the lands upon which our campus is situated, the people of the Boon Wurrung and Woi Wurrung, who have created art, made music and told their stories here for thousands of generations. We also acknowledge and extend our respect to the Traditional Owners of all lands on which our work is viewed, shared and enjoyed, and to all Elders, past, present and emerging.
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