I am fascinated by what’s been termed our Inner Landscape, a dreamlike place where our logical side can’t always fill in the blanks. The Jungian writer Robert Johnson called events in this interior ‘the slender threads of the golden world.’
Though seemingly puzzling and a bit surreal, they inform our conscious lives. These are the narratives I discover as I make photographs and assemble photo collages. Sharp focus or soft, there’s an idea of a composed, lyrical scene that might well have appeared in the hours when we dream.
I feel that sometimes what we can’t quite make out or fully understand offers a more compelling, even poetic, story—one the viewer is invited to complete, even to dream upon.
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