After leaving Latvia and living in displaced person camps for 10 years,  my mother and grandmother arrived in the US in 1951 to rebuild their lives.  Like Europe, our family was rent asunder.  Relatives were scattered amongst several countries, and, in most cases, many relatives' fates and whereabouts were unknown for many years.

 Growing up, tales of growing up in faraway places made up, long walks to pick berries in distant forests, and stories of loved ones from another lifetime.  Like the intermittent signals telegraphed by a lost limb, pulses of memories called out stories of family members: musicians, teachers, rumors of misbehavior, scandal even, and a lot of hardship. Over the years, letters and photos accumulated. Over decades, a re-assembled circle of relatives gave me a sense of family and identity.

 My work here is to render homage to some relatives and raise questions of other family members employing assembled altars whereon I lay down items meant to symbolize affection or a question.  Each photograph in my series honors a single relative, using what is oftentimes the only photo of that individual. Other elements present in the work are flowers, with special attention paid to Victorian-era flower symbolism.