At one time, I wanted to shove my body into the body of my camera. My mind knew I needed a safe place. Because none existed, my subconscious invented an image.
Curled into tight ball, in the space between the film and the shutter, surrounded by the mechanics of the only thing I felt in control of.
A WOMB OF MY OWN (MISTAKES WERE MADE IN DEVELOPMENT)
Photography is a medium I can fit myself into.
Photographs aren’t truth. Truth is besides the point. Photographs, all of them, reflect what you bring to it. Inside the viewing, inside the making, It’s an accumulation of decisions and experiences that pile into a developed image. It’s a volume-less vessel that holds the material of what I mean to do, and the ethereal mass of my subconscious that continuously reveals, contextualizes, obscures, changes my position to it. Photography is profound enough to hold all of me.
A Womb of My Own (Mistakes were made in development), #1, silver gelatin photogram, 4ft by 5ft, 2014
A Womb of My Own (Mistakes were made in development), #2, silver gelatin photogram, 4ft by 5ft, 2014
Installation of A Womb of My Own (Mistakes were made in development), #2. Foley Gallery, NYC.
A Womb of My Own (Mistakes were made in development), Charleston, silver gelatin photogram, 4ft by 5ft, 2015
A Womb of My Own (Mistakes were made in development), #9, silver gelatin photogram, 4ft by 5ft, 2017
A Womb of My Own (Mistakes were made in development), #12, silver gelatin photogram, 32” x 40”, 2019
A Womb of My Own (Mistakes were made in development), #14, silver gelatin photogram, ~ 32” x 65”, 2019