This work is rooted in the incomplete memory of my childhood. What I do
remember feels essential but most of my past is unknown to me. That experience has
shaped my comprehension of who I am—as a man, a father and a husband. And this
dissonance motivates how I think about memory, masculinity, and the perception of
reality. As the primary parent of four sons, I have spent years immersed in the daily
chaos of parenting. Sleepless nights and quiet routines are intertwined into a
tumultuous maelstrom of bedlam and fleeting moments of grace. These experiences
have attuned me to what I call “perfect moments”. Moments where I felt freed from the
cumbersome realities of caring for another; where I was able to appreciate my children
for their childness. I am drawn to these moments not as nostalgia, but as questions
about masculinity, inadequacy, love and what is remembered versus what is lost.
Having grown up without a consistent male presence, and an emotionally unstable
mother, I learned to foreclose on my own needs to survive. Watching my children grow
has compelled me to confront what I recall about my past and how that relates to
becoming an actualized and evolved man. My photography practice allows me to
connect my foggy past to my present and broadening future. I use images as a way to
make sense of the feelings of absence, confusion, love and loss. Did I play like that?
Did I dream like they dream? Did my heart break in the same way—I don’t know, I don’t
remember.
