I Will Survive

(2020)

Memory is a dynamic entity that transforms with each recollection, crafting a new truth every time it is revisited. Its inherently subjective nature allows memories to evolve as they are shared, shaped by their audience's emotional needs and contexts.

I Will Survive is a series of eight photographic collages that explores the continuous evolution of memory's fluidity and malleability. Through a continuous interplay of emotions, contexts, and perspectives, the series presents memory as a living narrative, perpetually reshaped and enriched by each retelling. This ongoing journey, with memories accumulating layers of emotion and embellishment, acquires a cinematic quality that blurs the boundaries between reality and fiction. I Will Survive is not a static representation of the past but a living, breathing entity that continues to evolve and reshape itself.

The series delves into horror-esque cautionary tales, superstitions, and survival stories passed down from Hayley’s Aboriginal and migrant parents and grandparents. These narratives, deeply rooted in Hayley’s identity and worldview, are not merely stories but foundational teachings. Steeped in warnings, myths, and ghostly encounters, they evolve, growing more profound and embellished with each retelling.

In I Will Survive, Hayley plays the protagonist, transforming into a diverse array of characters suggestive of witches, spirits, and monsters. Her visual metamorphosis and mutations vividly bring these stories to life, illustrating their ongoing influence and significance within the series.

Initially planted as seeds in childhood, these narratives reflect shifting understandings and perspectives, serving as both cultural transmission and personal education. Ultimately, I Will Survive explores how personal histories are continuously reinterpreted and connected across time, emphasising the intricate interplay of memory, storytelling, and cultural heritage.

The Truth Is Written By Hayley Millar Baker

A memory changes whenever it is remembered, and its revision becomes a new truth.

The truth is, I Will Survive isn’t the truth, but maybe it is. Exploiting memories for the purpose of storytelling is often done without conscious thought. Memories, when created, are subjective to their beholder, and when recited, they are adjusted according to their audience.

Recalling memories formed in my childhood and meditating on these stories in adulthood, I can’t help but dissect my memory’s influences and influencers and what roles my Aboriginal and migrant parents and grandparents played in feeding lessons and myths into my subconscious.

 I can tell you that when I was a child, in these moments, this was my honest truth. Now that I’m older, I’m sure it was the truth, but then again, I cannot be sure. I have been taunted and haunted by ghosts, spirits, and the paranormal. Maybe I misplaced the noises and voices, and my mind planted a memory decorated and exaggerated, amplified by fright. But maybe not.

 I have heard the growls, howls, and snarls of predators watching, waiting, ready to attack. Maybe I was simply spooked by a trusted elder with a ‘Did you hear that, Hayley?’ and ‘Did you see it!?’ embedding awareness and alarm to keep me from straying too far from the pack. But again, maybe not.

I have confronted and endured unruly terrains that are naturally ready to sweep me away in the blink of an eye. Maybe it was my ancestors guiding my next footsteps towards safety and survival, deeply interconnected to my existence while presenting as luck. But then again, maybe not.

Through my predecessor’s gifts of warnings of danger and instructions to keep safe, I have ducked and dodged the deadly and out-of-this-world.

Considering the subjectively constructive nature of memory-making, I’m sure my recollections have loosened and shifted over time, each retelling reshaping their truths, once overlooked moments, and at times embellished.

The truth is, I Will Survive is the truth, but also maybe it isn’t.