‘Emma, Elena y Mari’ moves outside of self as a modern codex, telling the story of generational relationships. Like a codex plate, the image tells a story. Each woman wears their wedding dress as we attempt to escape a rain of arrows. Each generation protects the next and the one before. Droplets of blood float upward creating the Nahuatl glyph for speech. The glyph is cracked and incomplete. I chose wedding dresses because they have so much power in our life stories. When I married, I chose a huipil instead of a traditional white dress and made it into a modern dress. My mother Elena wore the same dress as her sisters before her. It belonged to her oldest sister Amalia who died of cancer and never got to see her sisters' weddings. My mom told me the story of her mother’s dress. As a child my mother witnessed Emma burning her wedding dress. Emma had been asked by a church member for help in his home, when she arrived, he attempted to sexually assault her, but was interrupted. My abuelita fled and told my abuelito but he did not believe her. In a rage she burned her dress in front of the family. Both of my abuelitas are gone now, La Luchie y Emma they both were fierce and tough as fuck. Both withstood obstacles I will never have to, to survive, as many others have, and will and do now. I acknowledge the imperfect privilege that I have been born with because of the sacrifices that were made. Telling some of our story is a way to expand who is important in history, a way to honor the dead, a way to time travel, a way to heal, a way to be a mirror. ​