Rona May Bawa

Decaying handwritten letters, photos, objects and spaces— of all the traces that were left, rekindling and remembering mundane things after a death of a loved one, just to make us feel that they are still in this realm. To all the people who were left behind and to the butterflies of who passed away.

A year has already passed since the pandemic started but we still find ourselves waiting for something as time continuously ticks and as our hearts still beat. A reflection of loss and hope in the midst of uncertainties and fears in a time where it felt like the world stopped from its motion, but we did not.