My father collected my mother’s letters, written every day during WWII, including the ones the army shrunk for lighter weight shipping to France. After he died, she shredded them in a fit of emotional housekeeping, a profound lesson to me in letting go. Their mysteries are honored here.Silk organza, brown wrapping paper, beeswax, chile peppers, Vmail correspondence from World War II Folio
48”w x 36”