I am angry. I am still angry with my big sister for dying on me. As I embark on this project I am once again angry and helpless, the way I felt when she whispered ‘help me’ , her final words to me from her deathbed. This exhibition is a reified representation of my witchy big sister’s little apartment in Yarraville Melbourne the day she died in 2004. I don't remember it much. There are little details that stick in my mind - bits and pieces of a sparsely populated migrant’s bedsit living on the breadline away from her family and from care and love. Even before my sister got sick and left home for a better life in Australia, she wielded generous healing magic. Living away from her family she escaped the brutal actuality of migrant lives through her magic. She braved the trauma and the many challenges of her new life through her magic. When cancer arrived in 2004, she turned to magic to find the resources for coping with a seemingly endless cycle of hurt. As her bod