I am named after my maternal grandmother who died when my mom was seventeen. While I never met her, I look for her in stories, in old photos, and in my grandfather’s house in Ohio. My grandfather built his house with the help of my grandmother and their four children, and it feels like a part of something I’m searching for. 

My grandfather doesn’t always understand why I want to photograph his “mess.” It’s hard to explain the elegance of disarray. I show him the photos I take of his daughters and his barn bathed in sunset and hope he understands some of the beautiful mystery I see. 

​I close my eyes in the kitchen, shut out the dust and unfinished projects, and I can see her cutting flowers she’s brought in from the greenhouse, my mother sitting beside her. Documenting this aging building and aging man, I am looking for a woman who shares my name.

I have been photographing my grandfather’s house since 2008. The images are a mixture of point & shoot digital, large format, medium format and 35mm film.