Most people have experienced moments in their lives that were transformative. When in an instant everything you knew and understood went out of control as your world turned upside. Sometimes these moments are very personal the result of an accident, health condition, or the end of a relationship. Or they may be experienced more universally - like a natural disaster or global pandemic. The terror and beauty of sudden and irreversible change is the inspiration for Limbo. The humble plants and leaves I photograph are in a state of suspended animation, floating in ambiguous time and space. They appear in groups and pairs to express relationships and suggest a narrative. The juxtapositions within each composition are intended to represent dualities such as presence/absence, permanence/transience, past/present. And by stretching the time it takes to cross from one state to another, I give visual expression to the space in between and bring recognition to and acceptance of the delicate balance between dualities.
The subject matter and cyanotype technique I use refer to the tradition of botanical prints dating back to Anna Atkin's work of 1843. Rather than photograph flat and sharply rendered specimens for scientific study, I intentionally distort and blur my subject matter through long exposures and selective focus. In fact, I don't think of the plant material as specimens at all but rather as characters that interact with each other and respond to forces beyond their control. I create these images to reckon with memory, transience and loss.