Archival pigment prints Kingston, NY and Somerville, MA (2017–21)
I walk the city streets in search of solace—it has been decades since I have been surrounded by so much cement. This city is not so different from the urban setting of my childhood home, yet the desire remains to feel “at home” again. I have been in limbo since moving away from my childhood home two decades ago; it was then that I first realized everything is temporary. From an adult perspective, I have come to recognize this constant shift through experience.
What I learned in the garden of my childhood is that I feel most “at home” in the tunnels underneath the ferns. As I wander the city grid, I wonder how we got here; nature is only available in constructed pockets, cracks, and crevices. I am but a visitor to nature, alienated by a slathering of sidewalks, fences, and vinyl siding. From my steamy window I crave the outside, and yet I too must tame the wild. Like the house mice, turkeys, and wildflowers alike, I settle into place.