I have a deep love for animals. This leads to joy, heartbreak, and varied emotions in between.
This ongoing series invites the viewer to pause and look into the lives of animals in everyday situations, in ordinary settings, and to ponder what these sentient beings might be feeling, thinking, or experiencing in the moment.
All of us who call the earth our home are interconnected and in some ways interdependent. I believe it is through empathy, compassion, wonder, and insight, which I hope this series evokes, that we begin to more fully recognize these connections and our responsibility to care for one another and for our mutual home with energy, passion, and devotion.
*This project has been on hiatus I plan to resume working on it in late 2019
This series explores, through sense of place, the shifting culture of Christianity and my own experience of faith.
It was during a difficult pregnancy and miscarriage, that I felt as if God was still there, somewhere but locked off in another room, shuttered and inaccessible to me. That disorienting sense of presence obscured remains, even as I recall times when I felt drenched in possibility and light.
Still, I often find peace when I enter an empty sanctuary, a space hushed and full of the echoes of conversations and prayers which have lingered through the years. I sit and listen to the creaks, touch the hymnals frayed from use, and experience a depth of solitude. Photography becomes meditation.
I step outside and see reminders of God everywhere: on bumper stickers, yard signs, and telephone poles. In the wider landscape, out under the sky, I feel small and begin to think we are like little children wearing tinsel halos and catawampus wings.
A while later, I turn down a red dirt road and see the closed doors and curtained windows of an abandoned church. Will it be lovingly restored? Or will it be forgotten and crumble to the ground? I want it to be remembered as it is now, these weathered walls, this door, that humble steeple. There is something here, resilience, memory, a whisper coated in peeling paint.
Through these photographs, I share what I perceive as an ethereal sense of presence, alongside themes of longing and loss.
“The Song of Songs” comes to my mind. It is at once a love poem and game of hide-and-seek that is both arduous and playful.
As the rain splatters, splashes, drips, and thrums, a music arises unique to each place and to each storm. In a similar way each type of rain creates distinctive visual patterns, and brightens, deepens, or softens the colors we see.
When I look out the window I am drawn to the painterly scenes created by rain. As one who has lived through the destructive power of hurricanes and other traumas, I find peace, strength, and hope in this everyday beauty and grace.