Artwork > Doubts


Lost
Archival inkjet print
2014
The Dresses my Grandmother Made
Archival inkjet print
18" x 12"
2014
F-Stop
Archival inkjet print
2014
Dressed in White
Archival inkjet print
18" x 12"
2014
Hung Up
Archival inkjet print
2014
Shed Values, Shed Skin (1 of 2)
Archival inkjet print
2013
Negative
Archival inkjet print
2014
The Image of Me
Archival inkjet print
12" x 18"
2014
Shed Values, Shed Skin (2 of 2)
Archival inkjet print
2013
Hold Still
Archival inkjet print
2014
I Press Each Roach
Archival inkjet print
12" x 18"
2014
What Remains
Archival inkjet print
2014
What Lies Ahead
Archival inkjet print
2014
With Each Stone, I Lay to Rest
Archival inkjet print
2013

Growing up is much like winter. What was once clean, pure, sparkling snow is soon marred and a bitter wind sweeps in that causes the bones to ache. There are moments when I wish I could let my past fall to the ground. There it would rest, soon to be buried beneath the snow, no longer visible even to me. But one’s past cannot simply vanish, and without it, I would not be who I am today. This work is the realization that one obtains as an adult: that life is cold and beautiful and things can never remain as they are. This world is constantly spinning, constantly changing, and we must make sense of our dizziness. Doubts is a personal fragmented narrative of the girl I once was and the woman I have become. It uses photography, video, and language to explore my past and my present.

As a child, I was raised Mormon and was taught the rules and rituals of that religion. I believed in it; it was the only truth I knew. Then something changed. Gradually, doubt crawled in as I got older. The life I once thought I wanted no longer fit. I began to question everything and I began to see the world differently. Many of these changes and my understanding of these changes happened through my art and my writing.

The dresses are a symbol of the girl I used to be. They are a symbol of childhood and how fleeting it is. The discarded insects and their exoskeletons are a metaphor for fragility, for growth, and for doubt. They are the remains of my past. The winter landscape and the white snow represent both purity and an adult view of the world. The camera parts and the film are my present. While I may not know who I want to become, I do know that photography has left its mark. When I chose to become an artist, I began a new life. I replaced the rituals of religion with the rituals of photography. Instead of praying, I make art and I write. Instead of going to church, I worship the world through the lens of a camera. My view of the world is grainy, marred, imperfect, uncertain. I believe in art the way others believe in god.