Jessica Smolinski

The word “mom” carries the weight of deep love, longing, and complexity for me. Several years ago, I lost my mother unexpectedly. Now, as a mother to rapidly growing teenagers, I navigate the layered experiences of motherhood, life, loss, and healing. My studio practice is shaped by the absence of my mother, the presence of my own children, and the ongoing process of making sense of a life marked by the challenges of being the child of an addict. This multimedia exhibition includes works that grapple with memories and reflections of my mom and me.

A constant element throughout the exhibition is the inclusion of my mother’s handwriting, which I’ve always loved. Sourcing the letters of the alphabet from cards I’ve saved, tracing her writing, digitizing, and then laser-etching feels sweet and desperate. I can replicate the form of her letters, but not the gesture, the emotion, or the life behind them. I’m using her handwriting (mom font!) to write lines from Emily Dickinson’s poems that resonate and connect to my work. The act of retracing my mother’s handwriting is an attempt to know her better, but using words that translate the dynamic feelings I have about life and death in ways I fumble to articulate.

Pieced Together is a series of denim textile works made of scraps that are sewn together like memories. They speak to a life cut short and to the rapid passage of time. The denim is an anecdotal way to honor my mother, whose name was Jean. Photographs are laser-etched or embroidered into the denim, serving as both a document and a material. A bird in hand is one example of an image repeated throughout the works, symbolizing the preciousness of a rare and fleeting moment. All of the imagery marks small, everyday moments—seasonal shifts, the cycles of growth and decay.

The photo series Stuck documents balloons caught in the landscape, a post-celebratory event. To me, the images embody feelings of both joy and sadness. Humor is also present, and a key component for me to survive this complicated life.

Garden Cinema records various late-summer gardens, cast as shadows. The video is projected on a pixel and quilt-like screen, fusing domestic tradition with the language of photography.

Mom offers a space to reflect on how maternal legacies are passed down, altered, and remembered—not only through photographs or objects, but through the act of creating itself. It is an intimate meditation on connection, impermanence, and how the past is continually rethreaded into the present.