Goodnight Dick (2011-2012)

        In late 2011 my Great Uncle Willie, who has been very influential in my life, became sick with Esophageal Cancer. Accepting that this was not a curable sickness was not easy. My exploration began when on a trip to visit him; I casually began photographing a car I found in the woods. For over 30 years this car sat alone left to decay down to its very core and I was left to watch my Great Uncle's body sit in a hospital to do the same. I needed to make that comparison in order to level headedly approach the inevitable fact that death was coming.
        That comparison allowed me to approach the memories and remember them in a positive way. I have aimed to revisit places marked by these cherished moments. It often feels like I shouldn't be there because he is absent, but it provides me a sense of relief. As I use this time to reflect in these spaces I have to remember that eventually they will also no longer exist. When the time comes, as his has, a family has to pack up the life of a loved one so neatly into little boxes and take those boxes with them.
        Reminded by these things that seem to only exist within a box, I am left with "what now?" Unsure of what to do with these relics and how to use them to remember and learn about my great uncle, I have began to explore the possibilities of their re-purposing. Without destroying what already exists in a frail state I'm looking to make sense of what is left. As I delve deeper into the situation I find myself being forced to face what I tried hard to avoid. My photographs serve as both metaphors and literal depictions of my attempts at overcoming grief as I make this transitional journey that extends beyond just life and death.