When my mother, Mable Ball Mihaly, who had Alzheimer’s, died, my brother & I donated many of her possessions, sold some, tossed others & stashed those that were hardest to part with in the attic. That echoey top floor had also become the repository for the belongings & mementos that I’d clung to from my own past lives. Not long ago I decided to take stock of what’s upstairs, hoping to record & memorialize the stored photos & objects before bidding them a final farewell. I also wanted to use them as a springboard to create work that embodies the spirit of the people, places & times they conjure, as well as the influence all have had on me. Working on The Attic has been at times funny, often joyful, frequently painful, but always powerful.