A little over a year ago, while living in Portland, I was working on a project about my grandma Honey. In this project, I was projecting her photo different places; showing her my life and honoring objects tied to her memory. I have a lot of regrets, and concentrating some of my work on my grandma helps me conceive of my loss with more clarity, as well as explore concepts tied to death. Death has thrown me into a space that defies my previously naive conception of time. Sound hurts and silence is the only thing that makes sense, and it makes room.