And Then

Jack was an intelligent, funny, loyal guy who was captain of his high school football team and best friend to my husband. He grew up in a home amid alcohol and physical abuse but always wore a smile. My husband left for college and Jack sank into a world of drugs; ultimately missing near twenty years of his life.

Once clean, he found joy, and therapy I suppose, in building the most amazing birdhouses from found objects.  I thought it perfect that as Jack was bringing new life to these discarded objects, so too were they bringing new life to him. Last year Jack was mowing his lawn on a beautiful Wisconsin summer day, when his heart beat for the last time. He had given me two of his creations, one was stolen and the other was nearly falling apart but still hanging in the tree Iā€™d placed it years ago. I removed the dilapidated birdhouse and froze it in water; a symbolic gesture to preserve what little was left of this kind man. As the block of ice melted, I shot countless images from every conceivable angle knowing the ice still transitory, but the images would be something tangible, something that could be saved.

The photographs were layered one upon the other and manipulated within a variety of applications on my iPad. What emerged was a series of allegorical representations depicting the journey one travels after losing a loved one. Like the symbiotic relationship between Jack and his birdhouses, creating these images became a source of healing for me.

AND THEN

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Nights In The Desert

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Misc.

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