My childhood home and its’ garden in Hoboken, New Jersey, which no longer exist physically, represent a sanctuary that I feel I have lost in adulthood. By excavating remembered stories, dreams, and family photographs, I have found that underneath the layers lies a deep desire for the refuge and freedom of imagination that I had in childhood and thought I would always have. It is this sense of loss with which I am grappling. In order to bring the pieces back together, my grownup imagination fills in the gaps like fresh mortar between old bricks. By collaging and altering the photographs and relics of my childhood and making surreal sculptures from found objects reminiscent of the house and its garden on Bloomfield Street, I represent the state of this place as it exists in my imagination.
Most recently, the creation of a book from these many threads has helped me parse out my discoveries into a visual narrative. Strewn throughout the book is my newest series of images, of interior windows, self-portraits, and my possessions, taken within my living room during the COVID-19 pandemic. These photographs represent an inner space that I am now seeding and cultivating, as I have found that the garden lives within me.