Memory is a funny thing. It’s easily defined as a faculty in which our minds store information to influence future decisions, and yet contains so much more mystery, ambiguity, and moments oftransformation than the functional definition allows. San Francisco-based painter Mary Finlayson noticed this while spending time with her aging mother, witnessing her memories fadeand her personhood transform. Her latest solo exhibition at Hashimoto Contemporary LosAngeles, Flowers on the Wall, deals with the larger questions about memory and its more fadingqualities. How do memories persist in our minds to mold our understanding of ourselves and ourclosest relations? How do we remember, and what is left, when we can no longer tell the storiesthat shape us?