20 imagesWorking with film and alternative processes, I utilize negative space, texture and abstract design as a means of processing the themes of grief and displacement. This series incorporates Burlington's unique lakeside landscape. Since relocating in 2015 I have made multiple exposures of the waterfront with a Holga medium format camera, sometimes superimposing anonymous public art over the landscape to create a double image. Included are the same five images, re-created in different ways, as well as the mistakes I have made along the way. From the beginning to the end of the cyanotype process, I relinquish my sense of control. Mistakes and change are inevitable, and I believe (I hope) these two things ultimately lead to a deeper sense of acceptance.
10 imagesBefore she died in 2004, my mother told me to look for expressions of peace in the world. "So I would say that God's peace is available, and he uses many different expressions of peace but you have to continue to look for them and expect to find them." In 2003, I was living in London and my mother met me in Paris to tell me what I had felt, but didn't want to know. It was there I learned her health was failing much more rapidly than I had expected. I made my way back to the United States to be with her, to bear witness to her journey to the end of her life. On the tenth anniversary of her death, I returned to France, to discover new places and explore where we had once been together. As often as possible, I return to create images for this ongoing black and white film series, searching for new expressions of the peace found in the light, line and gesture of everyday life.
20 imagesWe experience two landscapes in this life, the exterior and the interior. These images are photographs of lakeside cyanotypes in process. During the exposure time, which can be an hour or overnight and anywhere in between, I sit and watch how the elements of everything present work to create an image: sun, wind, water, debri, sand. Often, I make cyanotypes as a way to manage the long, cold New England winters. Water freezing and thawing on the paper is transfixing, and everything within the water makes its mark. All of the elements create a variety of colors that appear during exposure, but these colors are rarely if ever permanent. Such is the way of the interior landscape, that of the mind. Thoughts, emotions, feelings, all of these things will come to pass. I have found that by sitting in the quiet, watching things come and go, eventually I'm left with the breath and a final image that while chaotic at times is in the end, beautiful. "This at any rate is the belief that guides me here, a belief that the physical land-- a broadly encompassing term-- is sentient and responsive, as informed by its own memory as it is by the weather, and offering within the obvious, the tenuous." -- Barry Lopez, Horizon
11 imagesWriter and philosopher John O'Donohue once shared, "Landscape recalls you into a mindful mode of stillness, solitude and silence, where you can truly receive time...Time is transfiguration." This body of work is an ongoing series of 120 film images I made in a mode of stillness, watching the light change, the fog lift, the swans swim, the waves crash, the turtles returning to their watery depths. Water freezes, monarchs migrate, all things shift from one state to another. What remains are impressions of time on emulsion, reflections of color and light. Utilizing multiple exposures, each image is layered upon itself in camera, much in the way our memories braid themselves together over time in our minds, creating a final story that may be close to the truth, but will never be the truth entirely. They represent the space between a certain past and uncertain future, a liminal state of being that is continually on the edge of transformation.