It's been 5 years since I’ve seen my mother’s family. I traveled from my home in San Diego to reunite with them in Saint Mary's, Pennsylvania during the middle of winter. Our differences surfaced immediately: politics, lifestyle, climate, technology, money. I felt a certain guilt of distance, my transformation from a quiet teen to an adult gone by unseen. With my camera, I remembered: the careful arrangement of antlers on the wall, the peeling stacks of Italian player piano rolls in the basement, the wet gloves dripping dry on the line, and the smiling embraces of my grandparents every night before bed.
For days, we sat in this bubble. Inside, it was warm, joyful, ephemeral. Outside, it was harsh, fearful, uncertain. More than anything, I wanted to remain present in each moment, sear it in my memory, savor it in my mind, before letting it burst. -- January 2017