@DEENAKINGSTUDIO

In this piece, I think about how history doesn’t disappear — it attaches itself to us. It pins itself into our identity and quietly stitches its way through our lives. The repeated squares feel like fragments — pages, photographs, fabric scraps, conversations once had and partially remembered. Some are layered cleanly; others feel worn or absorbed into the surface. That’s how memory works for me. It doesn’t sit neatly. It overlaps. It fades. It resurfaces.