CELINE POLIDARIO
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Epilogue
mixed media, variable dimensions, 2018.
We associate memories of loved ones
onto objects. We dedicate gifts, artworks and songs to people who are special
to us. We keep movie tickets and old t-shirts to remind us of happy memories.
They become inanimate placeholders for moments we feel most alive. What happens
when they are no longer a part of our lives? What do we do with these remnants?
Sometimes the memories of these objects are too painful to keep.
I kept a collection of items from my last relationship that I
struggled to let go of because letting go meant moving on. It was my first
experience of bringing someone into my world, and I never wanted to let go. She
was my muse, the center of my life. Everything revolved around her. It took a
lot of time for me to reconcile with the conclusion of the relationship. Closely
holding onto these objects gave me a false sense of security that she was still
present. To move on, I needed to let go.
I gathered all the objects that reminded me of
her, set up a small trash bin in my backyard, and built up the courage to burn them
all; Polaroids capturing our intimate moments, old gallery tickets from our
first date, and, carrying the most weight, a series of paintings I dedicated
and named after her. Everything laid beneath a burning candle. When I put out
the flames, I looked in the bin and saw blue fragments had left a mesmerizing
image. I took out my camera and photographed the remains.
This gesture was a relieving one. I no longer
have physical reminders of our past. After seeing the ruins in the fire, it allowed
me to step back and appreciate the relationship, in addition to allowing me to
move forward. Epilogue is the image I saw within the remnants of a
past–unbearably heartbreaking, but beautiful nonetheless.