In the series ‘Home; Garden and Grave’ I ask 6-10 different people a set of questions about their personal demons through the reflection of both their past and current fears and insecurity. Through the answers they gave me, we collaboratively translate their responses into pictures. The questions asked and explored include:
Who are your demons?
Tell me about your nightmares
What are things you do to feel safe?
What are things you do to feel powerful?
When/where don't you feel safe?
What makes you feel the loneliest?
What is your ideal form?
Can you tell me who taught you what fear meant?
Are you ashamed?
What are you ashamed of?
Can you be ashamed and proud at the same time? All the time? Isn't it exhausting?
What about yourself scares you? What makes you nervous?
Who are you when you are alone?
What are the different masks you put on?
How are you different than your reflection?
What is a story that is important to you? What does it teach you?
What is your favorite item? Most meaningful object you have?
Where is home for you?
The entire body of work of Home; Garden & Grave speak to suffocation and rejection by society and culture; the desire for another identity; to attempt to perfect forms of ourselves that aren’t ideal; these images convey abandonment, the desire for home and the aftermath of sitting with your reflection.
There was a point growing up where I would wake up every morning crying hysterically wishing that I hadn't opened my eyes, and pray every night for it all to end.
I found a drum in a tree when I was twelve with my friend. We both had similar home environments and when things got hard and we wanted relief, we would play it. We would roam around singing and banging away at our little drum. The echo and vibration was our physical reminder of that we could feel something else. A little beacon of hope for a different tomorrow.
A few years ago I was homeless for 9 months. Over time I eventually lost all my belongings, all my memories accumulated over the years. Everything I could attach any bit of love towards was no longer tangible with nothing to call my own, but I still had my little drum. That's my ride or die bitch.
I’ve been allowing myself to truly feel now. To take my time with my breath and hone in on the gravity that's pushing me down on this sphere.
What I know is that I have a chance for change, I'm alive.
And this is just the shell I reside in.