Table Chronicles began as my attempt to stop time to hold onto the unnoticed

labor behind everyday motherhood. Leftover meals often half-chewed, spat out, or

abandoned mid-bite, were preserved in resin, like strange little monuments to care. A linen

canvas laid under my toddler's chair caught the daily messes, food, juice, spills later swept

with a broom, leaving long, accidental marks. A roll of kitchen paper lists every meal from

the past months. I documented these rhythms of motherhood through a diary of recipes,

reflections and photography. What started as an act of preservation slowly gave way

to acceptance, a shift from holding on, to letting life leave its traces.