Betsy Lewis

A witness from inside, I tell a lost truth. Cradling stolen moments of breath and bearing the weight of memory, these works refer to the centre: the core, the spine, the gut and the heart. Metal objects and necklaces point to sites on the body to interpret the impossibilities of telling. Like the armour they have become, these works serve as protection and give testimony to the privacy of night. The heartbeats of these memories are transferred into the stillness of the work, and here I learn to breathe again.