Enchanted

Enchanted

I am not sure I have ever been so surprised by beauty as when I saw this meadow carpeted with millions of purple flowers. It was on the Isle of Mull, in Scotland, and I had just pulled over to wander around an old churchyard in Gruline and was just getting back on the road to keep on schedule when the mass of purple drew me in. I couldn't resist! 

It is the kind of experience where you want to breathe it in deeply and savor it for the future. (Like what we do in Ohio on an unseasonably warm day, when there is still threat of cold and snow). If only we could fully conjure up these moments again so vividly! 

Size: (h x w) 16" x 24"

Media: Digital photography on canvas

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Stirring

Stirring

At the National Museum of Scotland, I was intrigued by a sign about ancient ritual offerings in water that noted: “Watery places were favoured for making offerings.  They were seen as boundaries between the human world and the world of the gods, where contact could be made.”  There is something about water and its glittery, fluid movement that touches my soul deeply. (This may have something to do with the fact that I grew up in the Great Lakes state!)

On the way to catch a car ferry, I took some photos of Lake Lubmaig. The water was so peaceful and quiet. I combined this with a shot of the Iona green marble altar in the Iona Abbey. In this piece, the altar and water fuse into a permeable “watery place”.

Size: (h x w) 20" x 16" framed

Media: Digital photography

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The Wait

This piece is from my two-person Tangled Memories exhibit.  The exhibit explored my experiences with my Dad's Early-Onset Alzheimer's. (He was diagnosed in his early 50's, when I was still a teenager, and died in 2000 at the age of 65).


The Wait

Waiting. Sitting alone at McDonald’s waiting for my Dad.

I used to meet my Dad at McDonald's for breakfast. I had moved out of the house and I looked forward to these times to connect and catch up. As time went by, he increasingly forgot to meet me. His forgetting at that time did not yet have a label, an explanation. All I knew, as I sat there waiting, was that he had forgotten me, again. I was alone.

Recently I sat alone again with my breakfast in a local McDonald's to take photos for this piece. The empty seat still served as an icon of Alzheimer's.

Size: (h x w) 48" x 36"

Media: Mixed media on maple

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Tangled Memories

This piece is from my two-person Tangled Memories exhibit.  The exhibit explored my experiences with my Dad's Early-Onset Alzheimer's. (He was diagnosed in his early 50's, when I was still a teenager, and died in 2000 at the age of 65).


Tangled Memories Sculpture & Detail Photograph

This piece contains images of family photos that have been printed on sheer fabric. I cut them in strips, leaving none of the images intact. These tangles of memories have been placed into a vessel, atrophied and opaque. It is symbolic of Alzheimer's-- a snarl of dead ends and detours within a shrinking vessel of obscurity.

Sculpture

Size: (h x w x d) 6" x 10" x 10"

Media: Fibers

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Framed detail photo

Size: (h x w) 14" x 14"

Media: Digital photograph

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Lost

This piece is from my two-person Tangled Memories exhibit.  The exhibit explored my experiences with my Dad's Early-Onset Alzheimer's. (He was diagnosed in his early 50's, when I was still a teenager, and died in 2000 at the age of 65).


Lost

As my Dad lost his memories, he lost some of mine too. After my Mom died it was up to my Dad to help keep our collective family memories alive. But eventually my Dad could no longer access those stories that gave us context and a sense of belonging.

Size: (h x w) 18" x 18"

Media: Digital photograph

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Almost

This piece is from my two-person Tangled Memories exhibit.  The exhibit explored my experiences with my Dad's Early-Onset Alzheimer's. (He was diagnosed in his early 50's, when I was still a teenager, and died in 2000 at the age of 65).


Almost

As my Dad was building a birdhouse and he asked me to hand him "that thing you use to pound nails in." My Dad, who had taught me how to use a hammer, could simply not find its name. Yet he had learned how to take the long way of getting there, taking alternate routes through his brain.

This piece is how I envision that experience, those times of knowing what something is but not quite being able to access it. It is like squinting through a haze or taking a long drive through the country. The scenic route.

Size: (h x w) 17" x 21"

Media: Digital photograph

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Archives

This piece is from my two-person Tangled Memories exhibit.  The exhibit explored my experiences with my Dad's Early-Onset Alzheimer's. (He was diagnosed in his early 50's, when I was still a teenager, and died in 2000 at the age of 65).


Archives

In Alzheimer's slowly memories can no longer be accessed. It is like there is a padlock on the brain as the memories within begin to deteriorate and the synapses break down like bombed out bridges.

Size: (h x w) 21" x 17"

Media: Digital photography

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