Recently I have been exploring ideas about what a home can be. How does the institution of the home, a place for learning and growth, foster attitudes towards tolerance and empathy? Alternately, can the home be the source where the seeds of bias and prejudice take root? Do they lay dormant, sleeping, until activated by some outside force? The homes in these works are a metaphor; a construct that possesses the ability to shape people’s minds and understanding about the world.
These constructs are under scrutiny. Their walls are not permanent; they can be rebuilt.
We can wake up.
I work with cyanotype, a historical photographic practice once used widely for documentation of worldly specimens and architectural blueprint drawings. This notion of the blueprint, or plan, was adopted as part of my process when creating the templates for these constructed houses.
Each house suggests a type of suburban dwelling from a variety of regions. I begin to fold, create the photograph, apply the cyanotype solution, and finally, through bleaching and toning, coax out an image that lurks somewhere in between the familiar and the obscure.
This lengthy process provides time to consider the complexity of my questions. The delicate nuance necessary for making the prints provides ample opportunity for pleasure and formal growth