Slack Tide 2019
Slack Tide is an oceanic term for a period of time between low to high tide when the water is at equilibrium with the force that pulls the tide in and out. The water is calm because it is not being pulled in any direction. The tide is as far out as it will go for the day revealing the most amount of sand. This short period of time occurs daily at the beach on Isle of Palms, South Carolina, where I took photos for my project.
I was interested in visually engaging in a form of therapy called Dialectal Behavioral Therapy (DBT) and its form of mindfulness. In this therapy, mindfulness is having awareness of the present and allowing each moment to be experienced and then flow out while withholding judgment. I created tactile photographs that function like objects from sand formations on the beach. I used materials that allowed me to be expressive with the surface of the image and emulated the changes the sand naturally endures everyday. I was interested in the ideas of acceptance and change which is a cornerstone to DBT.
Each object is made on Canson Platine Fiber Rag. All objects include Cyanotype and distressing from water that has lifted the emulsion of the paper. Some objects have been made with inkjet printing and household materials that effect the ph of the process. The objects have been processed multiple times and are not fully fixed.
(This work also includes text, which is not included online)
Unincorporated South Carolina 2016
I remember my first time visiting Charleston, South Carolina. My biological father picked me up from the airport and brought me to his gated community. When we arrived in his town, we traveled down beautiful roads with Spanish moss to get to his house. Before arriving to the gate, there were old country homes that seemed squeezed by expanding roads and new developments. I asked, “Who lives there?” He replied, “It’s something to do with plantations.” I felt conflicted by his lack of awareness of the area and why he lived within a gate.
The people that live on these lands are Gullah. They are direct descendants of enslaved Africans during the time of slavery in the United States. Their culture thrives on their connection to the land as many of them still live on the same plot of land where their ancestors lived. Maintaining community and land is what keeps the integrity of their language, customs and traditions.
Negative effect of gentrification is not a new subject, but for me, I had a great empathy for the Gullah people and the deceiving ways they have lost most of their land. Affluent communities have overdeveloped the land and the consequences for land has resulted in a loss its nature barrier protection and cultural lineage. I spent my time on the outsides of the gated community estranged from my biological father who was born in Peru. I have my own cultural losses and that became a way for me to understand the losses within this region.
Ten Mile River 2013
Lush green, bright yellow, and deep brown colors paints these woods called the Ten Mile River Open Space. This is the place where my brother Tim and I would dream, and would lay out in the tree house or on the rocks and imaging our lives someday. On other days, we would go on adventures looking for objects. I imaged the farmers, who used to own the equipment left the woods and horses running free. Tim would find arrowheads and I would imaged Native American battles and hunting. I never ventured deeper into the woods. There were places that weren’t always safe, especially down by the Ten Mile River, where there were abandon mineshafts and hunting grounds. Tim called this the Wild.
As a young adult, I return to this land and rediscover this place where I grew up. I photograph the woods at night and illuminate the space with flashlights. Visually this is a negotiation of physical space and the fantasies of my childhood. My fears and happiness, hopes for a future and reflection of past, curiosity and understanding, are represented in the revealing of this place that was home.
Kodak, whose founder George Eastman, was a progressive company, whose invention changed the world in photography with its Brownie camera, stating: “You press the button, we do the rest.” It also manufactured different films and papers, both in color and black and white. Rochester, New York, was its hometown, where the stately mansion of its owner is now an international historical museum named The George Eastman House. It is a reminder of the success of Kodak, housing a permanent collection of thousands of photographs, cameras, books, a wealth of information and treasures. The combination of the global economic crisis in tandem with the ever-present digital has recently forced Kodak to file for Chapter 11, declaring bankruptcy, closing its factories and selling all its patents at auction. It signals the end of a manufacturing giant, an insurmountable loss to a world-wide creative and technical community of professionals and amateurs; all ages, men and women.
Shortly after Kodak went bankrupt, I found an old box of 8x10 Kodak Fiber that expired February 1, 1944. This installation is made with 68 sheets of the 8x10 paper. Each paper represents one year past the expiration date. The first paper in the series was exposed to sunlight for 68 minutes. Proceeding images in the sequence were exposed for one minute less.
Trail Camera 2012
This project includes video and still images that collaborate with my dad, who uses the camera as a way to understand animal activity in the woods. The project branched off from the Ten Mile River project that I had been working on at the same time. It was staged in the back woods where I grew up and included my dad’s relationship to the space and the use of the camera similarly to Ten Mile River.