Let the flowers dry

My mother has always been in love with flowers. She was once passionate about creating dried-flower arrangements, until the work became too painful for her worn hands.

Drying flowers offers a remarkable possibility: transforming a fleeting natural beauty into a lasting memory.

How do we preserve memories? How do we hold on to the traces of our parents before they disappear?

Developed over a period of five years, this project seeks to preserve the traces of my parents’ lives.

I followed them through their everyday routines, mostly during their stays in the countryside. I photographed my mother collecting and drying flowers, always accompanied by my father’s quiet presence and love.

I devoted myself to preserving their memories through recordings, personal belongings, casts of their hands, old photographs, tattoos, paintings, and handwritten notes.

I also attempted to create my own dried-flower arrangements, hoping to extend their beauty a little further.

Perhaps it is a clumsy effort to hold on to something that is slowly fading, or simply a shy way of expressing my love for them.