One of my earliest childhood memories is of holding my grandmother's bruised hand as she lay in a coffin laden with satin ruffles and sweet-smelling floral bouquets. My mother is the youngest of thirteen children, and I accompanied her to the numerous funerals of her brothers and sisters.

This early experience instilled a fascination with death that I have been questioning and researching since I was able to read. I often escape to cemeteries to read epitaphs, and observe religious items, old photographs, and flowers left behind. I like to think of cemeteries as visual diaries of souls who have passed. I am curious how families mourn their loved ones.

My interpretation of death is whimsical, romantic, and sweet. The bones and skeletal images are symbolic of the strength—as well as of the fragility— of the human body. I experiment with the idea of finding beauty in death and accepting my own mortality through personal narratives from my childhood. I invite my viewers to abandon their taboos about the inevitable and experience my love of life and profound interest in death.