In a Place I Used to Sleep

Photography has a special way of retaining and manipulating memories of our experiences together. The lens has the ability to freeze time in a split second and tenderly hold moments of love, passion, and humanity so that as it passes we are able to revisit these emotions. Each photograph I create for my ongoing project In a Place I Used to Sleep is meant to provide a safe space for myself, my family, and the audience to come together as a common collective through individualized memories. 

By making work through photography I give myself the power to control my narrative. However, that power hinders my ability to be a truthful storyteller. I offset this by keeping an open dialogue with my subjects to give them authority over their own memories and the way that those memories are being presented to the audience. I strive to create photographs candidly in order to give the story as much autonomy as possible. My practice is in constant struggle with photography’s inability to compose an objectively truthful and unbiased frame. Myself, the subject, and the medium all seem to feel the same way about making memories-flawed, but necessary.

I began my work in hopes to heal myself and my own family, but as time passed and new memories were made I felt the overwhelming urge that this work became not just for my family. This project has become something for the collective to use as a starting point for healing. My work is made so that others no longer need to feel alone in their times of hardship, and can keep hope that the challenges they are facing will one day be building blocks for improved relationships, rekindled love, and memories to look back on to be reminded of their strength and beauty.