photo essay #1 [soon]





BOYS

 
KENZO & KROSS

6x7 Black and White Medium Format Film, Nashville

Portraits of my nephews being

bathed, groomed, and dressed

by my sister, their mother. 

This scene adds the 

intimate setting of home and 

early childhood.



Portraits of Brother 

In Tennessee, I photographed a series of portraits of my younger brother. Growing up, I'd spend long summer days in the southern heat with my older siblings. As I grew older, this temporal space of tenderness and intimacy in my immediate community began to change. These portraits display the fleeting sense of freedom and play in the black youth experience. 
The present-day situation of climate posing a threat to current and future generations, along with the lack of critical race theory education, I'm inspired to create work that urges reflection on our sentimental connection to memories of home, freedom, and play. 



a courthouse wedding













Nashville


American Mends

Scan of 7x7 Polaroid, SX-70

On Christmas of 2020, a bomb detonated in a Van

place in Downtown Nashville, near the AT&T building

(known as the Batman Building by Nashvillians). This

blew out many windows of buildings on 2nd Avenue.

Conspiracy grew about the issue of 5g and overall dis-

trust of the government and companies.

I attended high school downtown in a period of rapid

change. Old buildings were being torn down, and new

ones were appearing. The city was changing, and I was

changing along with it. On a walk, I noticed an 

American flag was hung over the construction site.




Chicago

 


Downtown Chicago

Digital scan of 35mm film

Growing up, I spent a lot of time 

with my grandparents in South Side

Chicago. I wasn't allowed to go downtown

until I was 16 and with my uncles. After the

3rd time I experienced downtown, I became

interested in how black people interact with

the landscape of Chicago, and the landscape

of nationalism in the city alone.
South Side Landscape

Scan of 35mm Film

In the 1960s, my maternal grandmother's and grandfather's families both migrated to the south side of Chicago on the same street, around 130th. My grandfather came from Memphis, where his family left the reserves for an ‘American' life. My grandmother came from Alabama, where she was raised on a farm ran by her white grandfather and black grandmother. As they share stories from these pockets of America and how their past and memories are reflected in my image or mannerisms, I think about my access to these memories. I pay close attention to the objects kept around the house that hold them. I lingered in the backyard as a child, where the grass was always cared for, and my grandmother would grow plants and bushes. As I looked around, I noticed the neighbor's backyards covered in concrete, with abandoned cars, space is forgotten. These images are part of a series that began in 2016 about how my grandparents use their backyard as a time capsule.






New York City



Studio