I was born on an Air force base in Limestone Maine , directly beneath the Canadian border. By the age of ten, I had lived in seven cities across the country. Growing up, my father was a pilot and because of his job, he often lived on the road as a traveler. As we trekked across the country, we lived in a wide variety of home places. In Zion , Illinois , we lived in a dangerous neighborhood that was ridden with crime: our rental home was old in years but also aged in memories. When we relocated to Lawrenceville , Georgia we moved into what my father called our white mansion: he was thrilled that he was able to afford his family his idea of grandeur. He filled our new home place with new home objects and he decorated our suburban endeavor as if we were royalty. To protect this new idea of home and its belongings he mounted identical lion heads (unpainted plaster) near the front door. As people, it is in our nature to humanize the objects that we create and live amongst: objects that resound the idea of identity and of home.

With a 4x5 view camera and color film, I study locations that examine the conflict between haste and stillness. Having spent time investigating contemporary housing patterns and structures, I am captivated by their swift construction that encourages immediate expendability. If our contemporary notion of the literal home can be effortlessly exchanged, how does this inform our sensation of the figurative home? Over time, I began to seek out home objects and home sites that had been abandoned. I was focusing primarily on furniture because of its connection to comfort: we use furniture in our homes to feel contented and secure. These once very essential symbols of what home means internally, the figurative sense of home, were now being left to the whims of the natural world. This series of photographs, Home Sites , is exploring this idea of the disposability of home objects, home places, and thus, possibly also the personal, intimate idea of home.

I question the sustainability of modern life. We live in a dissolving nation where homes are sprouted in masses, quickly and efficiently. Similarly, home ideas are discarded with parallel immediacy. We have replaced essence with haste, tossed our leftovers and are constantly ready to start anew.