Dwelling in Possibility
So my mind sinks in this immensity:
And foundering is sweet in such a sea
G. Leopardi, L'infinito
These photographs document the home where my parents have resided for
over forty years and explore their lives within. Through this project I have come
to understand how my parents and I are letting go of each other -- relinquishing
each other to the natural cycle of life.
To relinquish them is to remember them anew.
I came to this photographic project while circling a high desert bush.
Walking its circumference, I marveled at its inticate architecture of twigs,
its graceful dance, its very-changing existence as the light and the landscape shifted.
With a compass in pocket, I photograph to observe the subtle changes in orientation
and perspective, texture and shadow, emotion and gesture. Some directional elements
pull me more than others, others disorient; some are obvious, others
barely perceptible. Each singular image is portrait-like and when gathered together
in these polyptchs, the images both anchor and disorient the viewer, inviting us to
question our bearings.
A Place Called America
In this color series, I document ordinary moments that seem
to capture something about a mythical place called America – a place
that is both familiar and foreign, ironic and nostalgic. Whereas I might
have shot this series with many other cameras, the Holga camera
(with a plastic lens, the choice of two apertures and four focusing distances)
allows me a playful and refreshing freedom in its very lack of technology.
I love shooting with it, and often marvel at the seemingly serendipitous
way composition, color, and chance come together.
The art term, pentimento, describes the underlying changes in composition
and ideas in the process of painting, the faint renderings of an idea evolving,
covered over with the new.
I’ve always found this painterly phenomenon intriguing, and began to previsualize
images layered with change, nostalgia, and beauty. These images, captured
while on or beside a body of water, express a kind of mythic timelessness.
In this series of photographs, I explore the relationship between
decaying beauty and monumentality. Having spent much time
in Italy, I found myself drawn to these statuary works as they
seemed overlooked, forgotten, and melancholic. I imagined their
importance when they were first created. I imagined what history
unfolded around them. I imagined what they might have witnessed.
For me, these photographs symbolize forgotten narratives that beg
to be retold and remembered.
In My Backyard
Spending considerable time parenting in and close to home, I photograph what
unfolds around me: the often overlooked moments of domestic life–backyard play,
what remains to be cleaned up and put away at the end of the day, the space
around me without children in tow. I find that this series of photographs seems
to capture a kind of stillness and nostalgia – even melancholy – in the inevitable
passing moments of both childhood and parenthood.
Is this what I dreamed or is this how it was?
Is this what I hoped to remember or wished to forget?
Below the Dumbarton Bridge
This series of Polaroid emulsion lifts explores the landscape below
the Dumbarton bridge, which crosses the San Francisco Bay and
salt beds near the shores. It is a world of merging elements: land and
water, salt and sand, solitude and the busy hum of the traffic above.
Polaroid emulsion lift images are one of a kind; due to the process, each
image is unique. The process of making these images begins with a slide
from which a Polaroid photograph is made. The emulsion is separated from
the Polaroid image and then placed on 100% rag water-color paper, which
gives it an undulating, membrane-like quality.