Ghost Stepping

It probably began with the crepe myrtle tree outside my window. The tangle of branches made sense to me, and this became the way I made sense of everything that didn’t. Over the years, I have inherited the belongings of most of my family. Packing and unpacking them has become an internal conversation about the reach of the past into the present. The belongings they left behind, elusive memories, and contradictory family stories form the precarious bedrock upon which my present reality rests. These photographs are a meditation on the fragments and layers that shape my personal landscape, its erosion, and its transformation.