My mother is an overseas Chinese who grew up in Vietnam. When she turned 19, she went to Taiwan to attend college, and never went back to Vietnam because of the war, which happened right after she left Saigon.
I invited my mother to visit Vietnam with me in the summer of 2007. It was 34 years after her departure.I was assuming that for most people away from home, returning would be something joyous. However, for my mother, it wasn’t. My mother did not recognize anything in Vietnam. The only thing she remembered was the food. Food became the only thing that meant “home” to her.
This piece represents my search for my mother’s history and memory. And how memory can be sealed and fade slowly. I am creating images of my mother’s memory, where there are so few.As with memory, the fresh food will decay eventually. This is the way I chose to tell a poignant story about my mother.