Yoknapatawpha

I remember the heaviness of the air; the darkness of the heat below trees; the glisten of the grass in the darkness; sound being swallowed by plant and tree.

This was 30 years ago when I lived in Mississippi. My world was mostly contained within the U.S. deep south. A few years ago I realized that many of the visual themes in my work are glimpses of these memories I have of that place—both real and imaginary. This project started as a compendium of images from places far away from my childhood that were created as proxies for how I remember bits of my past.

Recently I drove a 2200 mile loop through the U.S. southeast. I saw what has become of the places I remember, but also explored how my memory distorted what is and what was. This project is now a stew of images from revisiting the sites of my childhood in the south and adulthood far away from there. They help me connect the dots of my past and patch them to my present.

The scale of what I remember is both intimate and expansive. The images I create embrace the range of scales as still lives of location, object, and ephemera.