BACK TO SOIL
People die. Families go through metamorphosis. They evolve and change.
We are handed things we don’t know how to carry.
We realize we are holding things we did not pick up.
To be a child and lose grandparents is to be introduced to death, confronted with it in a natural way.
To be a child still and lose a parent is to question everything. To have your world crumble and be forced to get up again.
To understand the world is not fair and know that the only truth is change.
Here, I have attempted to see the things I am holding, confront the ancestors who have handed them to me, and go about putting them down.
To lay down the generational trauma passed to me, my own anger and pain they have caused me in their leaving, and allow the water and clay to wash them away.
I will continue this every day until I die.
My family is multi-cultural, originating from the US, Germany, Switzerland, and spending years in Venezuela. They came together, all of us, for many years in Miami. We momentarily found peace, a peace that shaped my childhood. This is how I choose to remember them. I have used Zacatecas stoneware from Mexico and mason stains to create a blending of colors representing this identity.
For my Abuela, Anna Maria Hitz’, the sweet flower that bloomed in her own time.
For my Opa, Ulrich Bierschenk, the backbone of my family.
For my father, Theodor Bierschenk, for what it lacked in time, your story has made up for in adventure.