

inextricably bound, my mother’s loop is full of colour and life, dyed from many fruits, vegetables and spices. my father’s sombre palette is dyed solely with wine, tea, chilli and paprika – the things which give him joy apart from being with her. within both is the pink heartbeat anchoring them in this loss of self for him and loss of him for her. running through this is a deep and profound love for one another where they find moments of clarity and peace within a space that is fracturing
as a family we are witnessing these ‘seasonal shifts’ through the shared narrative of my father’s dementia. he is entering a new phase, one where we cannot join him although we are always here when he visits
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