"Inserting myself into the image acknowledges my artist's hand and records the passage of time.”

The luminous moments of Passage are performances of contemplation and meditation, an experience of feeling the presence of absence. I called it her gone-ness. I challenged myself to create as many worlds as I could find in a single stucco wall on the side of our house.

I love diptychs or triptychs, I love the "interesting conversations" that happen when disparate-seeming images are skillfully forced to hold space together.

Who makes an artist photobook out of image transfers on clay?

The zipper triggered memories of her extremely frugal mother saving buttons and zippers from their clothes for future use. She had grown up in a household where sweaters were hand-knitted and clothes were homemade, and she stated, “My mother’s hands were always busy.”

Photo historian Michel Frizot wrote, "The photograph is not in its essence a transparency through which we gain access to a known reality but, on the contrary, a source of ambiguity and often, perplexity. The photographic image is a constellation of questions for the eye because it offers viewers forms and signs they have never perceived as such and which conflict with their natural vision." That's quite an accurate statement for this triptych by Kurt Schroeder.

Mitchell writes, "These are spaces of transition. I create a world between a dream and a cinematic still. There is a sense that the space and narrative continue beyond the frame, with echoes from a past existence, that nature will eventually have its way with us.

Meltzer told me photography allows her to see the world from a fresh perspective. Having spent a long career in education and social services, she shares some of what she learned via her series, Through the Lens of Children, from which this picture, Sure!, arises.

The dichotomies and questions pictured within the image brought me so many new questions and brought me back to look at again and again.

Asner-Alvey told me that using her body repetitiously displays her ongoing struggle to gather and reconstruct the fractured pieces of her humanity. She continued, "The process of image transfers mimics the textures of skin and creates a bifurcated visceral, painterly image."

Though The Visitor could have been made anywhere with an aging and neglected building, it sings to me of my mental picture of the South (which is most likely a fairy tale that exists only in my head.)

Zoom became a lifeline for many of us during the pandemic. But what when one of the participants secretly goes beyond simply participating? Where is the line between looking, voyeurism, and spying?