seeds for inheritance
Growing up, the specter of money followed me from the intimate corners of daily life to seemingly anonymous encounters. As a young girl I bridled against the pre-judgements and preconceived notions around wealth; a presence I couldn’t see, but strongly felt. Luxury, intended to comfort and protect me, felt like a conspiracy preventing me from experiencing the full extent of my strengths or limitations.
I developed insurgent tactics, lying about my last name and home address whenever possible and avoiding sightings with my dad’s chauffeur. I chose interests, hobbies and friends removed from my world. I always had a longing to be viewed on my own terms.
Stumbling into an elective photography class junior year, I discovered a way to locate myself. My first images surprised me. They were at once original, full of feeling and, distinctly my own.
Returning to New York City after Graduation my camera became my constant companion at family gatherings and events. My new hobby drew questions, criticism, and occasionally, a dose of mockery, but through it, I could tell my own story; one that was personal and uniquely my own. At the ICP documentary photography program where I enrolled after college, embedded voyeurism was encouraged. Classes with Nan Goldin, Mary Ellen Mark, Larry Clark, Charles Harbutt and Joan Liftin taught me that my newfound habit, done honestly and with commitment, could have meaning and a lasting purpose.