This piece came out of an assignment I had in a college sculpture class, to make a prosthetic. Real prosthetics try to be as natural as possible. They try to look and operate the same way whatever they are taking the place of. I made a wig that didn't function or look like a real wig. It was clearly not real hair it, it was ugly, unmanageable, and connected to a wall.
The piece took on even greater meaning watching my mother battle breast cancer. Her hair would fall out in clumps, and despite having a wig, she didn't feel or look quite like herself. The wig could not heal her, give her back her energy, actually change her physiology. It was just a cover, trying to bring some sense of normalcy to her life.