Handmade contact prints on Canson Montreal cotton watercolor paper. Each print was toned in either coffee, black tea, or cassis tea.
(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. There is a nostalgia for the way things should have been, not necessarily for the way they were. 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 sacred and the profane.
Where Love Resides
Where Love Resides
In the spaces between memory and dream…
These visual poems relate the little things, the magical things, the mysteries that call to me again and again. They are expressions of love, in all its varied forms.
*Note: All photos in this portfolio are made on Ilford Delta 400 film with a medium format camera. All film is developed by me and then scanned.
It's the Wind We Remember
This portfolio is created on medium format film with a Bronica Sq-A camera from the 1980's. All film is developed by me.
The series is broadly inspired by the lyrics from the American musical group, Iron and Wine. Their song “Upward Over the Mountain” is what started me on this photographic quest… Well, you could say that 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…”
The series is an exploration of nostalgia, grief, beauty, loss, healing, light, wisdom, and tiny moments of stillness.
Some whispers around the trees
On your wings we are carried to the sea
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 loved 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…