GHOSTS.

    ghosts; figments of our imagination.

"existing inside of us"

they come and then they leave.

they leave and then they come.

but they never stay,

because "they" are none.

 figments

MARIBEL.

93.2 Miles, A little under 1/2 tank of gas, and one daisy chain later lead us to the middle of nowhere where an Eerie, yet enchanting forest exist. 

The trees were black and burned;
the river was full of red mud.

MARIBEL, WI

NOSTALGIA

Life – An existence that can be taken from us at any moment, forcing the ones around us to be trapped in a snow globe of nostalgia.

I have never seen death. I have never looked one who was dying in the eyes to wish them safe travels to the other side, wherever that side may be.  Recently a few close to me have experienced loss. I watch them closely as they shift their eyes the same as their bodies in their chairs. These gestures seem uneasy and I can almost sense the agony they must be feeling. To have loved and to have lost what once was.

I analyze every stutter and awkward pause. A silence that becomes so loud I can almost hear it. A song for those who left, to come home, exits into the air.

I placed Amy in an abandoned green house. It was gutted from its botanical life. I tried to paint a picture for her mind, so she could imagine a beauty and create what once existed. She asked many questions. The questions asked were formed from a fresh curiosity to devise a deeper understanding of her whereabouts during the shoot. The pictures I chose to keep were the ones where I saw her longing for what once was and what will never be again.

I am sorry if you have ever lost, but I have gained so much from you.