My earliest memory began here in my crib. The tropical breezes with the scent of plumeria from the neighbors yard was noticeable. I remember my mother attending to me after I woke from a nap. The hugs and nuzzles was bliss. I felt loved and protected. However, a recent experience with my mother finally compelled me to create “On My Own”. I was four when my parents divorced. The love I felt in that crib was fleeting as I grew up without her. My questions on these pillows were real and unforgettable. For decades I reached out for her love… only to feel her actions and her words cut at my heart. There was no love left for me as the youngest of four siblings. Although, I have found love in many other people. I realized that my Hungry Ghost is my mother.