Serving as sort of mantra, "I Hope I recognize you when I see you!" were the last words my mother directed towards me in a letter she wrote before she killed herself. This work examines that phrase, as a sort of prayer and demystification of the bond and inherent distance between family members and the deceased. Using familial archival images and creating my own photographs and memories in the places my mother once stood, she has given me her eyes to see.

Designed and photographed in Michigan, printed in China, 2024

“A search party of more than 40 members combed through miles of farms and rural wasteland in Pinal County for Mike and Tina Careccia, but in the end, investigators said it was one man who led detectives to the missing couple — in a 6-foot grave just steps away from his back door.”-AZCENTRAL, 2015
They were my friends, my family. I did not make it to the search party. I knew in my stomach that the worst had happened. It feels like atonement, to keep searching for you both. The media, internet sleuths, defendants, aquiantainces. None of them knew you both like we did. Somewhere in that ranch, a part of me was taken away. A part of everyone. The last place you were seen. The place we grew close to eachother. The last place I really cried. I want to remember you both. I want to remember what you meant to me.

2023 - Present