My mother, Kim Doranne Hora, passed away in December 2019 due to a brain aneurysm or a massive stroke. Kim gifted me with my good looks, a playful sense of humor, and a deep passion for music. This work documents the initial four days of my grieving journey following her passing through my phone: texts, note app, phone calls, and recordings.

Her departure occurred just a few months prior to the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic in the United States, making this period exceptionally challenging. It wasn't solely the weight of her loss or the shared childhood trauma among my siblings and me that tested me; it was also navigating how those my mother cared about, and my brother, perceived me as a transgender man. Adding to the surreal and dystopian atmosphere was the influence of Donald Trump, a figure intricately connected to my grieving process. My mother was a supporter of his, and I found myself reminded of this while being judged by those she held dear, all as I grappled with my mother's loss. The unexpected politicization of this moment, driven by my identity and anti-racism, was beyond my anticipation.

The hand-drawn illustrations were created in a state of near delirium approximately a week after my return from the southern part of the country in 2019, as I sought to process the overwhelming emotions I was experiencing.

In June 2020, my sister spread half of our mother's ashes in Myrtle Beach, SC, where we spent our formative years. She sent me the other half. On my journey from Chicago to New York to embark on my graduate studies at NYU, I made a stop in Seaside Heights, NJ. My mother hailed from Elizabeth, NJ, and grew up in Bricktownship, NJ. Throughout her life, she cherished and yearned for the Jersey Shore. I carried her ashes in a mason jar for one last walk along the boardwalk where she spent her youth, laying her to rest in the ocean, a place she adored.

This work was created for an experimental poetry course I took at NYU in 2021 while I was obtaining my Masters degree.

More about my work: basilvaughnsoper.com