One hundred sixty-one days passed between my last day in Southside Studios and my first day in a new studio. In September 2024, Hurricane Helene flooded Southside-my haven, business, passion, classroom, and studio-always alive with creativity, until it was filled to the roof with river sludge and burst at its metal seams. I lost everything I had, from my sketchbook going back more than 5 years, to my apron from college, the drill my dad had given me, my body of works, precious equipment, cookie cutters my grandmother had given me, and all of my one-of-a-kind plaster molds. How do you collect and quantify the days you don't want to remember? How do you represent the days you hate? Why should I remember myself at my weakest? Each day, like a votive, was a tiny prayer. Votives symbolize the desire for God to intercede into earthly affairs. These 161 pots, like votives in cathedrals, signify lifeless prayers. These dark and dormant days represent a fractured existence where light seemed lost.