Monuments of the Fields: Work Synopsis

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While growing up in a smaller, somewhat rural town in Kansas, creativity became pretty necessary to my emotional survival. When there are few things to keep yourself distracted from what is difficult and unchangeable, you invent. Ways to pass time, stories to inhabit, and most of all; meaning to sort through the layers of seemingly random suffering.

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For me, photography has been one of the most rewarding outlets in my creative practice. It can be extremely transportive and meditative. I can create characters, worlds, color schemes, and distort reality to suit my own vision. Like all of my creative work, photography exists at the intersection of play and discipline. I am persistent in translating what I feel into something visually precise, yet I leave room for surprise in what I find in the world. This usually involves making a lot of Pinterest boards, listening to a ton of music, and genuinely driving around aimlessly until something catches my eye. ​​

 

Traveling beyond the vast yet isolating horizon of Kansas informs this body of work, but at its core, these photos are explorations in the most uncomfortable emotional states I experienced living in Rural America. Particularly longing, stagnation, grief, and the fragile process of recovery from them. I am drawn to cemeteries, churches, fields, and abandoned rural landscapes. While these spaces are most obviously connected to decay and stagnation, they can be surprisingly hopeful. They remain quietly resilient as years of weathering bend them into something different. They become monuments of the fields they inhabit.

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I am heavily inspired by musicians Ethel Cain, Florence Welch, Midwife, Eliza McLamb, and Autumn's Grey Solace; fashion designers Vivienne Westwood, Pat McGrath, and Erin Parsons; and writers Michelle Zauner, Pema Chödrön, and Mary Oliver. Most importantly, I am inspired by my parents and the wonderful forgotten places in Ohio, Tennessee, and the Great Plains.