the thing about memory is that over time it begins to morph into something totally different. it becomes what we think we remember— what we want to remember, even. memories serve as a totally fragmented experience. what we remember is often shaped less by what happened and more by what we're willing, or unwilling, to carry. the memories from these experiences are usually edited ourselves leaving only traces of what we saw behind. shortly after, we may begin to enter a rabbit hole. it can start with an idea, but then we can be somewhere else completely. it can begin with something as simple as flowers, but then somewhere down the line, the flowers lead us back to a daydream we had, what it felt like to look out into a landscape somewhere, or even what the scrap pages from our high school notebooks looked like. the rabbit hole asks "what happens when perception becomes memory, and memory becomes myth?"

eventually our memory becomes our own subjective reality. if several people experience the same things together, they each won't remember it in quite the same way and over time the memory becomes distorted and incredibly individualized - intact only through fragments. it becomes clouded by our own feelings and experiences forming a string of thoughts scattered around what we think we remember. a slow dissolve from the tangible into the emotional, from the literal into the mythic. a log of stopping and remembering, turned from what we actually see, into what we think we see.