Where an image persists in the eye after the source has disappeared, this is how Farah understands memory: not as a faithful record, but as a residue of what the mind holds onto after the details have faded.

The series is a personal response to watching a family member lose his memory to Alzheimer's disease, a condition that strips away people before it strips away places. From this intimate starting point, the work expands outward into something more collective: moments of tenderness between children, the blue glow of a screen from a shared childhood, the weight of a body resting against another.

These are the kinds of moments that echo, recognizable to anyone even when the specific details belong to someone else. Painted from family photographs, the works deliberately dissolve the human figure into light while allowing the surroundings to remain present and detailed because this is what memory does; it keeps the room, the feeling, but it loses the face.