TAKE ME TO YOUR MOON
Journeys into the World of Dementia
(2021 - present)

The moon surface is like a brain with Alzheimer’s disease, in contrast to an image of the earth for the healthy brain. The course of dementia can be described as a journey from the earth to the moon, from the familiar to the unknown (TED Talk: Reconsider Dementia by Vibeke Drevsen Back). My work on this page depict such inner voyages.

Kit Watson is my former art teacher. She courageously shared with me her journey to her moon. Our collaboration efforts were exhibited at the Prairie Arts Center, North Platte, NE in 2022.

Click any images below for enlargement (for large screens).


 "TALK TO ME ABOUT HOW I GO AWAY?" #313, 2022, 8.5x25x8", 22x64x20cm

Every one of us is on a boat of life. At some point, we all have to stop rowing, letting the current take us. The uncertainty is sometimes terrifying. It is especially so for those who have been recently diagnosed with dementia.

Handwritten questions from a person with memory loss to her doctor are inscribed in her own words on this canoe. Some of them are:
 “Talk to me about how I go away? How fast”
 “Ulshemers??”
 “Will I get dificult? I do not want to be nasty to my family.”
 “Know my family – how does that go away – do I not know them?”
 “Can I ask to be uthinized?”

The blanket behind her holds the words “family,” “ friends,” “smile,” “reaching out,” and “compassion.” They will be her warmth no matter how far she drifts.


 REACHING FOR MEMORY, #315, 2022, 10X17X15.5", 25X43X39cm

Little by little, words have sunken beyond her reach. Even her children’s names fail to surface sometimes. My name has been long gone. Kit rarely answers my calls. Her dementia has already pushed away many friends. As her family is exceptionally caring, my friendship is not needed. Still, I choose to row my boat to hers from time to time.


 DARK CORNER, #314, 2022, 17.5x6.5x7.5", 44x17x19cm, sold

We forget so much but can remain haunted by unresolved moments. The same is true for people with dementia. Even though much has been wiped away from memory, the pain continues to stab at the heart.

I cannot forget the sorrowful expression on Kit’s face when she told me about an irretrievable thing she had done. It could easily have been forgiven, but the person concerned has been long gone. The matter has been always smoldering in a dark corner of her memory. How much longer will this continue, and how can we help her forgive herself?


 WARMTH OF MEMORY, #316, 2022, 15.5x9.5x9.5", 39x24x24cm

“I love watching the sunset and recalling my childhood. ” Kit beams with delight each time she tells me about her parents. Their gift of love is still remembered, and it will, I believe, accompany her journey to the end.


 HER CORE REMAINS, #312, 2021, 19.5x8.5x6.5", 50x22x17cm, sold

TENYOH: "Some choose death over becoming undignified burdens. I am one of them. On the other hand, suicide does not seem to have crossed your mind. Where do you get the strength to keep on going despite what may lie ahead?"

KIT: "I won’t kill myself. It will be awful for my children. Chances are I will go to a nursing home when I can no longer live alone, but even there I will make friends. I will also find something that I can enjoy working on. It may not be art any more, but I will find something."


UNFAILING LOVE, #318, 2022, 17.5x17x18", 44x43x46cm, sold

In a nursing home where I worked, residents had half an hour to eat a meal. Walter was one of a few who needed to be syringe-fed. One day, his wife visited, and we set his tray in a corner away from the busy cafeteria. When she requested a spoon, I asked, “Does Walter open his mouth?” She answered, “Yes, you may have to wait a little, but he does.”

The lunch ended, and other residents were back in bed for a nap. Walter’s wife was still spoon-feeding him, restoring some dignity to the life of this old rancher.