2014 - ongoing
It is the way the yellow-walled old library at Edgehill smells that I remember most strongly - the must and dust of old volumes left on the shelf for a generation, the dirt on the floor, the cool wind bringing hints of pine and floral blooms through the space between the sill and the now warped pane, the drywall and paint chips as they fall from the ceiling and collect, dusting the floor, occasionally swept into small piles at one side or the other.
Though the images in this series – portrait, landscape, and still life – are pictures of one place and one family, they are my vignettes, my invented idea, of the collective memories of this place. In this way, it is a work of semi-diaristic fiction where familial archetypes sit with my own personal family histories. My hope is that it occupies a space between documentary, narrative, and memory. Not fact, nor fiction, but containing hints of connection and mirrors to our own experiences. I like to imagine if it had a narrator, that the voice would belong to the house or the land, passing in its own time - the family and the place, keeping pace with each other until the bubble is reshaped or bursts.
Work in this series is ongoing.