#memory

#memory

I remember my mother exactly as I saw her for the first time: wearing a blue, azure suit, a white shirt, black heels, and dark brown mid-length hair curled with a bold red lip.

The exhibition 'Dearest Banlieues' features over 200 works, including archival documents, paintings, installations, videos, photographs, and personal testimonies that capture the complexity of suburbs.

Heartworm's heroine Sam navigates her grief-driven journey by seeking a portal to the afterlife, confronting grotesque memories, and battling manifestations of her pain.

Korakrit Arunanondchai's installation 'Unity for Nostalgia, 2025' transforms a foundry into a haunted cinema, blending themes of memory, nature, and transformation with unique mediums.

"It's natural to want to lie when you look in the mirror, see you are naked down to the crimes. Let me tell you, honey, truth is the harmony your song has been missing."

That's what these newer events do best. They draw you in with sound, light, movement, even scent. You're part of it, and regular nights out don't feel the same.

People rely more on large language models (LLMs) as information sources for academics, medical advice, and writing assistance, altering societal norms and practices.

The body remembers what the mind forgets. What moves us is not the muscle, but the myth. There’s a tension that lives between surfaces, not quite sweat, not quite skin, but something older, deeper.

"Generations of Ginza-goers will be disoriented, but the San Jose restaurant at 215 E. Jackson St. is now called Kaita," wrote the Merc. "Six months ago, Koji Sugimoto bought the closet-size Japantown landmark, ripped out its worn walls, and installed new blue carpeting and comfortable benches."

Objects are more memorable when people encounter them while feeling positive emotions than while feeling negative ones.

Motherhood is often described as a balancing act - juggling schedules, ambitions, emotional labor, marital needs. But nearly seven years into marriage and four kids later, I've come to believe that motherhood isn't simply about balance. It's about memory. It's about navigating the relentless, complicated push and pull between remembering and forgetting.

Long before our population began stockpiling an almost unimaginable array of items, animals evolved similar behaviors, though possibly for different reasons.

People are not very good at remembering things the way they really happened. If an experience is an article of clothing, then memory is the garment after it's been washed, not according to the instructions, over and over again: the colours fade, the size shrinks, the original, nostalgic scent has long since become the artificial orchid smell of fabric softener.

I sit in my room in this nursing home near Sydney, a box of four walls that holds all I now call my own. Two suitcases could carry it.

The body appears in my work as fragmented and in flux-gestures caught mid-transition, toes curled, hands hovering. These are bodies that do not settle into place.

Hamilton's work beautifully embodies the weight of absence through a combination of embroidery and oil painting, capturing the essence of lost memories and cultural assimilation.

The comfort in the smell of bacon in the morning is mostly burning fat & salt, but the taste is sweet as the part of the pig that stores the soul.

Elaine O'Hara, a warm and vivid woman, is remembered for embracing life's challenges with joy, from being a tomboy to a rugby enthusiast.

If writing by hand activates more connections in the brain, it's no wonder I rely on sticky notes in my daily life—my entire organizational system is built around them.

Join us at our drop-in art workshop to create a unique altar diorama in memory of a loved one. All ages are welcome and materials will be provided. This workshop draws inspiration from Malaya Tuyay's public art piece, "What is Legacy Without Liberation," encouraging participants to honor their loved ones creatively.

Pindell's early encounter with a Fayum portrait marked a profound moment of recognition for her, connecting her identity with an ancient past that transcends time.

He will be sorely missed by all his family and friends; he was a proud, strong Irishman with a quick wit, the most charming smile and was a true gentleman.

"In Blushes the ghost world we're shown is the suddenly empty one created by the Covid pandemic, with its unpeopled streets and rising death toll."

The 'true purpose of autobiography', Nabokov continues, is 'the following of such thematic designs through one's life.' This reflects a deeper understanding of life’s complexities.