Our memory is like a shop in the window of which is exposed now one, now another photograph of the same person. And as a rule the most recent exhibit remains for some time the only one to be seen. ~Marcel Proust
Vanishing Point, completed as a limited handmade edition in 2009, explores the mutable, and sometimes unreliable, nature of the human memory. The images are drawn from several decades of family photos of my maternal grandmother, who suffered from Alzheimer’s in the last years of her life. The tunnel book format was an ideal one to express the passage of time. Photographic images are the remembered experiences filed away by the mind. Insect channelling, like that seen rare books and manuscripts, represents the disease eating away at one’s recollections of times past. These lacunae grow larger and larger as one moves forward in time. And contrary to Proust’s description, the most recent experience, and point at which the viewer engages with the piece, is the least complete and the most ravaged.
One need not be a chamber to be haunted; One need not be a house; The brain has corridors surpassing Material place. ~Emily Dickinson, “Time and Eternity”
And even if you were in some prison, the walls of which let none of the sounds of the world come to your senses – would you not then still have your childhood, that precious, kingly possession, that treasure-house of memories? ~Rainer Maria Rilke
artful intuition 
Beautiful description and so very sad. To be robbed of your most precious treasure must be the worst robbery of all.
a very sad illness that robs one of memories, people, places and things…especially at the time of your life when memories are all that you have left
My mom died of Alzheimer’s. Your visual rendition of the disease is very poignant. I will reblog it to pass your work along. Hugs for the gift of your insight. 🙂
Your presentation is beautiful and heartfelt. Thanks for letting us in.