The Art of Keeping House
Home is a construct. We build; we break down; often simultaneously. The construct exists as much in the imagination as in reality. The boundaries are indistinct. Home is often evanescent and intangible.
My photographs are from a personal record. Many were taken in the basement of my home of origin at the time of my Father’s death. When my siblings and I were cleaning out that basement we found laundry that had been hanging on the line for fifteen years.