One of my most startling early childhood memories is of finding one of my father’s painstakingly composed family photographs pierced by my mother. She cut holes in them so as to completely obliterate her own face while not harming the image of my sister and myself beside her. Even as a child I was aware that this act was quite significant - but what it signified was beyond my ability to decipher. As an adult I continue to be disturbed by these artifacts, which not only encompass the photographer’s hand but also the subject’s fingerprints. Even though her incisions have a violent quality to them, as an image-maker I am aesthetically drawn by the physical mark, its presence and its careful placement. These marred artifacts have formed a reference point for my new body of work, Kitchen Gods, but they do not limit the form my own work takes. I am fascinated by how my mother’s physical mark complicates the read of an otherwise mundane family photographs. In this body of work like my mother, I alter the family photographs to modify the stories they tell.