Portraits of home (2019-2020)
Looking back at my childhood, I always had a strong feeling of home and safety. As I’ve grown and taken on more responsibilities, I have found that these once-significant emotions have receded and I have since found it difficult to re-access them. As humans, we all want to belong to something and feel wanted. The last few years have been the biggest transitional period of my life, going from a child to suddenly assume a position as an adult. This experience has led me to explore the idea of home and what the word means to me, using my childhood recollections to direct me.
These photographs are not about houses, but what they represent. A house can be an all encompassing space in which a home is formed, or simply four walls with nothing inside. This search led me to examine the neighborhoods around me and put myself in the shoes of the people who live there. At night, the lights inside illuminate the street as proof of life. I would wonder what was going on inside the houses after the day had ended. What were the people doing? Were they happy?
These photographs are a reflection of my search to find comfort in my surroundings.
You are not alone (2020)
As the COVID-19 pandemic began and the world seemed to shut down faster each day, the importance of connection became much more apparent. I began to long for the small daily interactions with others that I would typically take for granted. The virus leveled the playing field showing how vulnerable we all are to challenges out of our control.
Trying to be (2019-2020)
When you’re a child you’re often asked what you want to be when you grow up. The answers tend to be extravagant and far fetched like being an astronaut. Growing up often means lowering your expectations and your answers to the questions you were asked as a kid become much more simple. I want to be happy. I want to be loved. I want to know my importance in the world. I look at adulthood as trying to make these aspirations a reality.
Take a break (2019-2020)
Taking walks with a camera on my side has always been an immense release of stress for me. In college, when I felt like life was swallowing me up I would wander around town with no end destination and see what I could find. I didn’t have intentions in this project having an overarching grandiose narrative, but rather using it as an exercise of decompression. Photography doesn’t always have to change the world, its purpose at times can be to simply change your own life for the better.
Good fences make great neighbors (2019)
I’ve lived in New England my entire life, growing up in neighborhoods that all looked the same. As I’ve grown up I started to realize the similarities in the landscape in all of the places that I frequent. This project is an examination of three towns in New England with varying populations and average incomes. The houses and neighborhoods look similar but paying finer attention to detail gives insight into the lives of the people who live there. Houses can often be facades covering up the struggles people face while carrying out their lives inside.
Secondhand concrete (2019)
When moving somewhere new it’s difficult to feel like you’re a part of the community or feel like you belong. When I moved to college and started photography I experienced being out of my element in an unknown place filled with strangers. I immersed myself in the surrounding communities and the people who lived there. I found it incredibly interesting that places can hold a history of the people who were once there. Not in the statues scattered across cities of historical figures, but in the crumbling sidewalks and dilapidated houses.
Uncertain bliss (2018-2019)
As a young artist it’s easy to feel like your ideas are invalid and that you have nothing to say to the world. It’s in these times of struggle and uncertainty to remain adamant. It’s easy to fall into the trends that you feel will make you famous but lack character. What’s most important is to follow your instincts and continue to examine the ideas you find interesting until you locate the root of it. This project is a deep look into what I find compelling in the world without letting the voices in my head cloud my judgement.
Long Walks (2018)
Starting at the age of eighteen I felt a constantly growing struggle to fall asleep at night. When others would drift off to sleep, my brain seems to be moving a thousand miles a minute. I overthink everything in my life and struggle to find any comfort in my bed. I began going out on walks late at night to ease my mind and hopefully tire my body out. The darkness was all encompassing and emitted a silence that was deafening. Crickets chirped as the neighborhood snored. Night offers a stillness nonexistent in the daytime where i’m comfortable being in my own skin without judgement from myself or others.