To use ones mouth as a means of discovery.
If our hands could speak, what would they confess? I set out to take portraits of people’s hands to give them a chance to confess what they have done, what they fear and what they regret.
There is a conflict between inner thoughts and outward expressions. Everything that poisons the mind, body, and spirit, is realized as a stream of ominous thoughts dripping in and out. The motions are ones of acceptance and resistance. There is a struggle between allowing the thoughts to happen and yet not wanting them to take over. Along with a beautiful longing to learn how to live in the dark and never lose the light.
Video: one minute forty seconds
Early one Sunday morning I went to Grand Central Terminal. All was peaceful, the light was beautiful, and then the place came alive. People were running around in every direction around me. But, there were some that were just standing there. Waiting for a train or just taking in the terminal. So I approached them and asked to take their portraits.
Out the window of Suzanne Opton’s studio in New York City. I have always been moved by this gesture. Sometimes out of sympathy, sometimes out of sentimentality. Either way I find it a beautiful and I’m always compelled to photograph it. I love the idea of being able to affirm another person’s memory. It humbles me and yet fills me with a sense of importance.
My Great Aunt passed away late last year and I went to her home on Long Island where she lived alone for 33 years. My mother, sister, aunt and I were there to start cleaning out the house. When we arrived we got to work straight away taking down everything down and boxing it up. I realized that this place was never going to be the same again and began to panic. I pulled out my iPhone and captured what I could in the moment.
Video I made after taking notes on my dreams during a nights rest. I still don’t really know what the dream was about or what it meant to me. But, after going threw the motions of turning my unconscious thoughts into a visual message I realized I didn’t want to know what was behind the dream. I wanted to live the moment so I created it.
In the Middle of Somewhere and Nowhere
Took these with my iPhone on a long bus ride. Was originally intrigued by the foggy and somewhat ominous conditions but later realized the photos were an acurate representation of the emotions and thoughts running threw my mind.
Stills from: dreamdrip
Stills from a video that I made titled dreamdrip. Video to follow.
Wrapped up in darkness being pulled from below. Hell hath no wrath just truth. Falling down accepting not wishing not wanting. The landing was warm not hot. The fire flourished and the souls were torched. He was standing over his collection as if he were the proud father. I approached as if welcome; he snickered and glared. He knew what he had, the work was done. The contract was written, the line was drawn, and I was the terms. He came down to convert me but I was already a believer so he laid it in front of me: my fate, my faith, on paper, in blood. Then one thing passed through the slit in his tongue, “You are my child.” My hand took the implement to pen my name and it hovered in mid- air. I looked at him for a second and lived that moment for a minute. He may be the night but I am the fear. The pen turned to water, and my heart turned to ice, Devil I will do your bidding but just not tonight.