January 2021 Artist Statement

The truth of the photograph is that it is a moment in time, a moment we may not even remember first hand, yet somehow becomes engrained memory.  It becomes a record of one’s life, proof of existence, an archive of joy, love, and warmth.  Family photographs live in the heart, bring a smile when we see them; a remembrance of innocence, a favorite place, the time your mother fell in the stream.  They are saved, and cherished. 

Simultaneously, they conjure the complexities and traumas of family dynamics that linger in the soul, deeper and more firmly rooted and tangled with one’s sense of self, belonging, and value/worth. We don’t take photos during the fights, during the hurt, during the times we wanted to run away.  No one says, “Dad’s yelling again, let’s capture this moment”, yet that moment is fused to the brain of the recipient, the determination of one’s worthiness. 

Through repetition and collage, this work explores the photograph as archive, and as a mechanism of resolution and grieving; a way of piecing things together toward resolution (though resolution is impossible).  The images in this series are ones I have no first-hand memory of, but are photos I return to repeatedly in grieving the loss of my father and brother.  They stitch time together, bridge the emptiness of loss; not just the loss of them, but also the loss of my own innocence and sense of self.  Our family dynamic tagged me as the black sheep, yet I take comfort in these photos.  They offer a sense that despite the turmoil and unrest in our family, there was also joy and love.  There was warmth.  While it is not always easy to recall, each time I go back to these images, I am reminded of the last thing my brother said to me before he passed, “It wasn’t all bad”.