I had someone drop eggs from a height while I stood at ground level with a polaroid camera, trying to capture the falling object as it passed. I then strung the different elements together – like a mobile – with a bronze nest at the top and the broken egg shells reassembled at the bottom.

I think about memory and the way our baggage stays with us. Old scars and phantom pains inform my understanding of the present; but sitting unconfidently in my own perspective, I often wonder which part is real.

I made this one for a girl.