For this series, I took my mom’s gingerbread house pattern and replicated it, hoping to reenact a family ritual.

As I traced the old, discolored cardstock—stained with rancid oil and carrying that familiar scent for years—I reflected on what preserves tradition. Physical manifestations may outlive those who produced them but hold no significance without their memories. 

My mom’s paper pattern will be destroyed, by time or some act of fate. My experiences with my family imbue the simple gingerbread house with importance and power. I have realized that preservation of traditions is an active practice. It must be passed down, lest the chain be broken. Preserving and repeating our traditions is an act of sentimentality and duty to those we love. 

This is what I have attempted with this series. While practicing my family’s gingerbread ritual, I recreated gifts I’ve received in my life that represent familial knowledge and craft. My mom’s frosting recipe holds everything together.