My most prized possession is my sketchbook, a collection of almost 300 pages designed between 2021 and 2025.
I constantly document my life by drawing myself, from my hands and shoes to my room and my father. I’m interested in revisiting memory, whether by filling hundreds of sketchbook pages or recreating childhood videos using printed images, paint, and paper.
When I was seven, my older brother and I got two identical shark plushies. He named his Mr. Sharkie and I named mine Mrs. Sharkie.
I immediately cut out her front tooth with a pair of scissors. I have no idea why. I used to pretend it was because I didn’t know stuffed animals didn’t have baby teeth like me, but I was never that stupid. Maybe it was because I wanted her to look different than my brother’s. Maybe it was some primal urge to destroy.
In my head, Mrs. Sharkie has not accepted that Mr. Sharkie (who my brother got rid of years ago) left her. Mrs. Sharkie is also unaware of why her tooth is missing.
I can’t bring myself to admit it to her. The story became, to me, a manifestation of guilt. Of nostalgia, change, and our pasts, but also playfullness and silliness.
This ceramic series portrays the story of Mrs. Sharkie, including her missing tooth and the bloody scissors. But there is something new to the story: a retainer.