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These two pieces were from a group show called "Dear Summer, Thanks For Waiting" that my friend Charlie Cottone set up at the Padlock Gallery in South Philadelphia. The theme was "perserverance" and the text underneath each picture was displayed along with them in the gallery.



Three years ago my Grandmother and I took a road trip to visit my cousin in Florida. We listened to music, ate junk food, and told stories. One of the stories my Grandmother told me changed my entire perspective of her. When she was six years old she lived with her three sisters and her parents. Her Father was physically abusive, specifically toward her mother. During one particularly violent attack, he was screaming at her mother and cutting her with a straight razor. My Grandmother left the house and found a police officer. When questioned, her mother said nothing had happened and her Father had hidden the razor. My Grandmother took the officer by the hand and showed him where the bloody razor was hidden. She and her sisters were taken to an orphanage. My Grandmother is tough as nails.



In August of 2004 my Mother called me on the phone obviously shaken. She had been to the doctors recently because of numbness in her hands and feet. After some tests she was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. What I remember most about that day was how calm she was, until I became upset. She was more concerned about my reaction then she was with her own health. Now she does research and keeps reassuring me that it isn't as bad as we originally thought. Yes, she's on a lot of medication (administered through a space age needle pictured in hand). Yes, she's irritable. Yes, she has to go to multiple doctors constantly, but she is alive and will continue to be.
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