Ghost Farm

I was blessed to grow up in a small rural town, which gave me a quiet, beautiful place to escape to when I was adventuring, and to which I have returned to live. Growing up, my siblings and I spent a few hours after school each day visiting our beloved grandparents (a retired farmer/teacher and landscape architect/housewife) at their farm.

 

After we left home and were in college, my grandparents grew more bound to the den and daytime television. At one point on a visit home, I decided to take my old 35 mm Canon and take some photos around the property. When I later had them developed and excitedly showed what I thought were nice artistic shots to my grandmother, I remember her face sinking with melancholy and a bit of embarrassment. She had no idea that the places I'd photographed had fallen into such neglect- she must have been living with memories of earlier, more vibrant times when the farm was in full swing in the 1950's-60's, and thought that the world outside the boundaries of her daily routine were closer to her memories.

 

This taught me a lesson about respect, empathy, time and the dimensions of reality that each of us construct. I think we each have things we don't examine closely until others point them out, or something else opens our eyes. The images have become more haunting to me as I've grown older, a good reminder that our time here is precious.

 

These were exhibited a few years ago, and will be in a staff exhibit next month at the arts center I work for. Here they are for your perusal.

 

 

Ghost Farm



 

Berkshire Hut

Fence 

The Tack Room 

 Planter

Barn