to lay a seed to rest

History is kept and lost in the ground. Growing up in Hanoi, my parents would point out the streets which has rebuilt from rubble along with those which used to be lined with bomb shelters. A few miles away, archaeologists would dig out vast pits to uncover the bones and bits of the ancient city. We dive into the earth to know more, and also to learn what we cannot know.

I embed floral porcelain plates into the center and base of craters built out of paper. to lay a seed to rest enacts when the ground gives way to the past. The plates bear the impact of history and speak even to its absences; unearthed, they reform the landscape and reenter our lives in the present.