Placed in a hideous orange box that rests precariously on my window ledge, are childhood photographs of me. Stolen from my mother's albums these images now reside with me, an artifact of life that I can’t recall without physical evidence. These fractions of moments hold no certainty, only physical attributes are honest, forged memories taint the photographs with doubt.

 

This work deals with the uncertainty of memory. Deliberately I have explored the depth of an image, altered what is known, and reinvented it. The process is indirect, using digital means to combine photographs, and next, printing on transparent paper as a negative, I then print the final image in the darkroom. Fogging the image with the process, these images contain misguided depths and plaguing uncertainty. 

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