Lucid landscapes: The garden layers black-and-white photographs of my garden with my grandmother’s writing/calligraphy, collected paper fragments, photos and dried botanicals gathered over time. Looking back, I realised tending the garden on gloomy, heavy days, was an inherited ritual; a place where a restless mind sorts through unpaid bills, shopping lists and unanswered mail. Without intention, watering became a way of reaching back, towards the women whose rituals taught me to find joy in the everyday.