Nothing in this life lasts. Roses wilt. Leaves fall from the branches. Seasons change. We grow older. All of life is ephemeral, and yet it is exactly this, the essence of fleeting moments, that renders life even more splendid. It all goes by so quickly. In the blink of an eye, we find ourselves on the verge of yet another decade of life.
Ephemeral is about empowering each other, about honoring our differences, and capturing our similarities. It is about connection, friendship, trust, and ultimately, about love.
This project celebrates and honors the process of growing older, of the wisdom therein, of the beauty that remains. It is my prayer, my offering to the world as I too face the passing of the years, standing on the cusp of my 50th birthday.
These are unique, handmade contact prints on Canson Montval cotton watercolor paper. Each cyanotype was toned in either coffee, black tea, green tea or a combination thereof.
The images speak of loss and healing, of finding my back to myself, with nature being and storytelling as central themes. These prints were have been an integral part of my healing process, a cathartic body of work that has helped me to cope with and make sense of my recent, fairly traumatic hysterectomy and the struggles I have had for many years with endometriosis, adenomyosis, and uterine fibroids.
It's the Wind We Remember
The body of work is broadly inspired by music from the American indi/folk group, Iron and Wine. Their song “Upward Over the Mountain” is what started me on this photographic quest to explore loss, nostalgia, memory, and healing… it was that song coupled with the loss of my son, Ryan, in 2008. Sam Beam sings, “So may the sunrise bring hope where it once was forgotten. Sons are like birds, flying upward over the mountain…”
Many of the photos are about leaving; others are about coming back and being better for having taken the journey. Sometimes the wind is at our back, nudging us along steadily, and other times it whispers around the trees and then knocks us to our knees. Life is like that. So is love. And so, this body of work honors the loves that I have known, as well as the losses. In the end, grief is really just another expression of the love we felt for someone whose presence made our lives so much richer.
(I Guess) This must be the Place
Home… that soft, mythical place where we come to escape the harsh edges of the world. That place where we lay our head, where we tend to our wounds with softly spoken words, “Hush now, it’s going to be alright.” That place where we can safely land after our days, perhaps even years, of flight.
Home has been a dream I have been chasing all of my adult life. Not just a house, but a house that feels like home. Apart from my earliest childhood home, a red brick former stage coach house built around 1800, and the last two places where I have lived, every house I have been in has been stained by some type of traumatic incident occurring while I lived there. I am still searching for a house that is a home, and in the meantime, I carry this mythic place inside of me. These photos are a way of helping me to connect with my personal mythology with the concept of home.
Les Petites Mythologies
A series of soulful, highly personal photos that is an homage to American photographer Joyce Tenneson. All photos in this series are shot on Polaroid film, using either a Polaroid Press camera or a Graflex 4x5 Speed Graphic large format camera.
These are little visual stories that speak to the deepest parts of being, telling tales of my dreams, my daydreams, my memories. The body of work is about self-acceptance and coming into my own as a woman in the middle years of her life, about being comfortable with my femininity, my sexuality, and my body. It speaks about the contrasts that exists within us all, exploring the light and the shadow, the softness and the hardness, the strength and the vulnerability, the sacred and the profane.
Tales from the Reconstruction
A series of photo-based mixed media pieces made from deconstructed book covers, original photographs, found papers and objects, feathers, sticks, string, and thread.
This series is about healing and wholeness, about putting myself back together physically and emotionally after a particularly difficult surgical procedure.
Les Quatre Saisons de Ma Vie
My Wild Nature: Connection with the sacred
Hints of memory and dream,
of what used to be,
on the verge of disappearing....
And re-emerging into the wild.
This series is close to my heart. When I created it, I thought it was about a longing for a deeper connection with the natural world, something that felt like a loss when I moved to the suburbs of the most beautiful city in the world. Over time, the series evolved to be an homage to loss in general, a study of the grief I carried after losing my son in 2008. When I worked as a therapist, I often told my clients that the central task of grief was learning to hold on while also letting go. We hold onto the memories of what that person meant to us, how they touched us, how they changed our lives for the better. We let go of the pain by learning to live without our loved ones and by allowing ourselves to continue to live in general— not merely exist, but live. Holding on while letting go…
Words are like wings
A world of discovery
Safe in my little nest
From mystery into mystery
The seasons of a woman's life
In my fever dream
The caress of light, the kiss of shadow
Waves of reverence
The weightlessness of wonder
My morning treasure
Ah, Polaroid…. can you feel the waves of nostalgia?
Of Angels and Insects: Memories of Flight part I
Of Angels and Insects: Memories of Flight part II
Roots and Wings
My Wild Nature
The passage of time
Let's get lost together
Submission for JUne 12.12 Project whose theme was "fernweh," the german word meaning a longing to travel or feeling at home is a place you've not yet been.