Being a mother is strange. This body of work is a mother’s journey of internal and external transformation- a shift in identity and reality of being. The mother figure is a landscape of time, her body made of marks and moments and thoughts, and bits of understanding. The child is portrayed in a chrysalis, in a constant transitional state, never fully formed. The mother, always there to feed, bathe, or nurture, lives in awe of their transformation and connection.