While I was photographing my Grandmother’s house after she died, I found a copy of an email that my mom sent to my grandparents in 1998. In it my mom writes, “Anna was upset when she awoke and you were gone.”
She goes on to say, “I haven’t told her I passed along the robe yet. I’ll wait as long as I can on that one. She gets very attached to certain things.”
Apparently, I am the same now as I was at three years old. These photos were my attempt to document the arrangement of a space and a life that feels like it’s always been and always should be.
