On the pool table, mother becomes location, setting, place that supports the game/life to be played and lived. It’s the place of conflict and strategy, the place where things are determined, where the action starts and finishes, the victories, the losses, growing history of progress and failure and beauty and death. Only ashes and images and artifacts remain, the enigma of her, frozen in time for her son to dance/play/think/work around her stillness, her death and her memory as fact necessarily becomes fiction to endure an unknown future.