In 2015, I became a mother. I was prepared for the gruelling labour and sleepless nights, but the loss of my sense of self came as a surprise. I had no time to think, and I began to feel like a shell of a person. My early days of motherhood were alienating and awful, as well as sentimental and dear. I began to see myself as defined only by a relationship. I felt that my son was an appendage of myself, the embodiment of self and other. It was hard to accept that he was a growing, a changing person while I was to remain forever split. When he is near, my thoughts are entangled around him, and when I am away, I cannot seem to be the person I was before. A child is how we remain on Earth; they are our legacies. As I see my son grow, I feel my time begin to speed up; I feel my decay. When we think about birth, we must realize our death. Motherhood is precious and raw, wonderful and dark. Using gesture and symbolism to connect Mother and child, I am showing the complex relationship between mother and child and challenging societal norms and cliché interpretations of the selfless or "good" mother. Using myself and my children to act in pre-planned painterly tableaux, I create stories that are personal and allegorical. Through beauty, I invite the viewer to contemplate space, gesture, and symbolism to show the complexity of time and the mother-child relationship.