Debra Restored, 2025, mixed media, 70 x 50 x 24 in. / 177.8 x 127 x 60.96 cm.

Almost 15 years ago, my mother took her own life, leaving behind a recording meant for me. I couldn’t bring myself to listen to it again for years. It followed me from place to place, unopened but always near—a haunting relic and my last connection to her voice. When I was finally ready, I needed to hear her without understanding, to find a way to separate emotion from meaning.

Around that time, I learned about Rachmaninov’s piano roll recordings—live performances encoded onto paper, allowing future pianos to play them back exactly. This idea of a “transmission” across time struck me. I began isolating the fundamental frequencies of my mother’s last five words. Each word contained twelve tones. I transformed those into a sculptural instrument that plays her voice not as speech, but as resonant sound.

Using tuning forks activated by sine waves and magnets, the sculpture speaks in frequency alone. The cabinet amplifies the tones, looping endlessly—a voice without words. Through this, I found a way to mourn, to reframe loss as presence. It became a beacon for others, too. We all carry voices we long to hear again. This is my mother, restored.