Photographs
This series marks a formative chapter in my life and artistic growth. Newly independent and away from home, I settled in rural Iowa, where I picked up a camera for the first time. The rich textures, vivid colors, and expansive light of the landscape sparked a need to explore and document. Shot on 35mm, medium format, and large format film cameras, this series captures my early explorations in photography during my time in Mount Vernon, Iowa from 2005 to 2009.
After my father’s passing in 2022, I found solace in the archives of his life. I poured over receipts, ledgers, and boxes of photographs and film negatives spanning more than a century. These images, passed down through generations, became my guide to a history he rarely spoke of, yet carried with him. In the dusty strips and sheets of film, I discovered a cast of characters and scenes from lives I had never known. Among the rolls were images my dad had taken himself.
In his last good years, my father and I connected through our love of photography. He taught me how to use his old cameras and we discussed our favorite artists, and places we wanted to photograph together. This series is my way of piecing together a narrative of my father’s history. Creating prints from these negatives has helped me process my grief and connect with his memory.
After my father’s passing in 2022, I found solace in the archives of his life. I poured over receipts, ledgers, and boxes of photographs and film negatives spanning more than a century.
These images, passed down through generations, became my guide to a history he rarely spoke of, yet carried with him. In the dusty strips and sheets of film, I discovered a cast of characters and scenes from lives I had never known. Among the rolls were images my dad had taken himself.
In his last good years, my father and I connected through our love of photography. He taught me how to use his old cameras and we discussed our favorite artists, and places we wanted to photograph together.
This series is my way of piecing together a narrative of my father’s history. Creating prints from these negatives has helped me process my grief and connect with his memory.
Growing up with parents who modeled lives of service, I internalized the need to do good, be good, and most of all, be perceived as good. As a neurodivergent, queer individual, I spent years presenting in ways I thought others would see as acceptable. Over time I recognized how the media I consumed deeply impacted my self-worth and internalized role within existing power structures.
In today’s climate I am more attuned to how the media reflects and perpetuates hegemonic views on everything from mental health and sexuality, to consumer culture and capitalism itself. By contorting ourselves to fit the norm we end up alienated from our true natures. In short, we unconsciously become accomplices in our own subjugation to systems that disempower us.
Returning home as an adult allowed me to pull back the curtain and see my community in a new light. I was compelled to reflect on the invisible power structures that shaped my childhood, how I fit into them, and ultimately, my implicit role in my own oppression. From that impulse came this series. By recontextualizing familiar imagery, I hope to subvert dominant narratives, making space for the viewer to create their own.
In 2002, my journey to Rome and Florence was a dream realized-a chance to experience the history and art I had studied for years. I was immediately struck by the interplay of antiquity and modernity: texting teenagers leaned against walls centuries old, and opulent tourist shops stood near alleys adorned with peeling posters. I sought to capture this contrast through my lens. Each frame reflects the layered reality of a place where time seems to fold in on itself, revealing its enduring beauty and vibrant culture.
When the weather warms, I spend hours wandering the woods along the Des Plaines river. The flora, fauna and quiet are a welcome reprieve from the buzz and stress of real life. Trudging through the floodplain with my camera pack and knee high boots-often filled with mud and water-makes me feel like a child again. I enjoy the simple pleasures of observing my surroundings without an agenda, excited at what small treasures I may come across. I explore the play of shadows, textures and color among the trees and riverside. Capturing each photograph feels like preserving moments when I’m most at peace.
