The Black Dreams. As much as my parents were strongly formed by place and culture, so much so that they faced hostility to their union, I was formed by a series of fragmented attachments. The complicated landscape of my family home, a place my parents gladly left but remained deeply connected to, has become for me a faraway land full of coded histories that are at once, familiar and strange. 

(A selection of 21 photographs from a larger project)

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calling shapes beckoning shadows

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The Fireweed Turns