Content area
Full Text
IT IS A strange experience, touch- ing the walls of your apartment with the eyes of your grandmother. I found that memories play an elusive game with the mind. They are tucked away, buried, hidden, almost forgotten, until light, patterns, and objects trigger the drawer where they reside to slowly slide open. Suddenly your home is their home, generations collide, and memories cross paths, melding into one existence. These images are the result of that collision. I've made memories from photographs, photographs from memories. I've watched ideas turn into substance, flesh into skin-tone, light into being.
My work emerges from a need to piece together a past that is slipping from my grasp. It is born from the experience of watching powerlessly as Native American burial...