Specters are the underpainting in both my canvas, and rubbers. Paper and inkjet transfers are manipulated photos of family, archival material, my fifteen-year-old self, and images that reference US military occupations. Stretching over dimensional structures, like skeletons that refuse to be rolled away, I want to show barrages of damage as the only *infrastructure* that empires leave behind. I rub the surfaces of paintings with fingertips, removing fiber in a gesture that veils and excavates. Likewise, when I brush rubber, I am indexing an embodiment that is exalted in color, space and scale. Can touch be a relief against forced forgetting––a disobedient affective mark that strokes over joints and awnings in canvas and rubbers, and extends itself to the claw clips and metal threatening to burst through the surface? I yearn for an abstraction that is sentimental, and unapologetic.