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Gas Lights

In the digital age, more and more photographs exist only as digital files; untouchable, corruptible, deletable. Now more than ever a physical image becomes a treasured object: you can touch it and hide it away in a box or an album. It is intimate. It's harder to bring yourself to destroy it. 


We have a very complicated relationship with the photos we hold onto. The moments and memories become foreign and the people become strangers yet we covet them because if we were to lose the evidence the entire memory might just escape you forever. I decided on a whim to take a disposable film camera with me on a spring break trip with friends. By the time I got the photos developed and finally saw the images upon them some of the strongest relationships which flourished in front of the lens, and had years of history behind them, had already met tragic ends. I held the paper in my hands, tears welling in my eyes, yet why could I not bring myself to destroy these hard-to-swallow memories? I could not make myself walk over to the trash can and drop them in; I even debated bringing my lighter to them and watching them go up in flame.

This body of work consists of various mixed media, painting, and collage methods obscuring those very images.

No copies or digital scans exist of the original photographs.