This piece was for my grandmother.

My grandmother died in February 2015. I have made a few pieces about her in order to come to terms with the void her passing has left behind. In a lot of ways, I lost her two times: the first was in 2007 when she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Both times were equally annihilating.

The performance:

I emptied three five-pound bags of flour onto the floor in front of me

I added water to the flour

I kneaded the flour, making dough

I rolled the dough out as thin as possible

I laid beneath the dough, attempting to conceal as much of my body beneath it as possible

The piece is titled “Easter Sunday” because every Easter we would dye eggs like many other families around the world. My grandmother would also make little nests out of dough for the eggs to sit in. She would place a tiny dough bird on top of each egg.

Whenever a new child was born into the family, my grandmother would crochet a blanket for them, their first gift. In some ways, hiding myself beneath the dough was very much like how I used to hide beneath the blanket that she made for me. I still hide beneath it sometimes when I am missing her.

These two memories are the crux of the performance.