I was uprooted, moving countries twice before I was 12 and again when losing my father at 18.

I’ve chosen to keep moving. The death of my father was what kept me going, never stopping too long in one place, in the hope of making the most of this life by seeing it all. But now I pause, turn around and find moments of comfort in the vastness of grief because connecting with him is a connection to self. It is only now that I wish to sink my roots, do I start to retrace my steps, and I look for the person who is missing. Gently, I turn to the objects, letters, places and photographs to look for meaning and a way to make sense of it all. In an attempt to bring him closer through all that’s left behind, through the undying objects of personal significance.

Perhaps living life fully was a mere guise for staying two steps ahead of my grief, an attempt to outrun the inescapable. And therefore I’ve shunned a sense of home, but my severed roots have caused stunted growth. Now it’s time to turn back, toward memories and unanswered questions.

The photograph as object is our attempt to immortalise a person by holding on to a slice of time. Through layering archival photographs with my present environment I’m pulling the past into the present so they become one.

I hope that this work encourages more appreciation for a loved one. Everything we love is merely on loan. The price we pay for love is grief, a grief that can be expansive and seemingly unbearable. It never goes away, but with time I have tentatively started turning towards it. I would hope that this work resonates with others who have experienced love and loss.

Instagram
@amy.piddington

Website
amypiddington.com

Connection to Western Sydney
Earlwood, Bidgigal and Gadigal Lands